


Silver Sandwiches and Delicious Teas

by Omoni



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-24
Updated: 2011-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-12 21:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 45,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omoni/pseuds/Omoni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of sappy drabbles and shameless fluff that features most of the canon couples.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dance of the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Writer's Note: Hello, and welcome to what I like to call "The place where all shipping fics live and have fun". This place will primarily feature canon shipping couples, including fluff, sap, silliness, and the occasional naughty fluff. All posts contain spoilers that will be noted before the fic begins. Enjoy!
> 
> Warning: Takes place during The Headband and contains spoilers.

Dancing.

It was something that anyone born into it would take for granted, and yet anyone who had never had that kind of freedom could only stand by and watch with wide eyes and a racing heart.

Although her childhood hadn't been as sheltered as the children around her, Katara had to admit that, due to having to have to grow up over a considerably short time, she certainly hadn't had the ambling and free childhood that other girls her age had.

Therefore it was with mixed feelings that she watched the cacophony of music and awkward dancing displayed out before her. It was a kind of atmosphere that she had never known, but one that didn't repel her. She wondered what kind of childhood Aang really had, really and truly, if he was so accustomed to dances like this one.

 _Simple monk, huh?_

And then, suddenly, he was in front of her, asking her to dance. She was so flustered, so confused (it's _like he can read my mind!_ ), that she tried to get out of it, but he insisted...and they were dancing.

"Just treat it like we're practising waterbending," he advised into her ear. "Spar with me. Trust me."

 _Spar with me?_

But he was _right_! Their bodies fell into the familiar patterns, already so second-nature to them both, and before she knew it, she could feel herself matching the beat of the drums, matching the rhythm of the music, and she could feel her heart racing, her body sweating, her very spirit singing...

And it was with Aang, the very person she cared about the most (after Sokka and her dad, of course). He was smiling, and matching her pace, holding her hands and laughing with her...and it felt so wonderful and so right.

And all too soon, the music ended, and Aang held her in his arms, both out of breath.

They shared a glance. Katara was smiling so widely that her cheeks hurt. Aang was grinning, his eyes dancing and his smile silly. He was warm, and he held her with so little effort. It was comforting.

Quickly, Katara pulled away, getting to her feet and smoothing out her clothes, feeling her cheeks burn. _We certainly never end sparring practise like_ that _..._

Aang, however, bowed to her, his hands held in the Fire Nation manner. "That was excellent, Sifu Katara," he said, his eyes flashing again in amusement. "Thank you for the lesson."

Katara smiled wryly, then bowed in the same way, feeling warm all over and yet incredibly giddy.

Aang's eyes held hers for a moment longer, before he threw his arms out and shouted, "EVERYBODY FREESTYLE AGAIN!"

And the dance floor was once more full of young students eager to enjoy the music.

Katara extracted herself from the crowd hurriedly, feeling as if she was being crushed by the many. Once she was back at Sokka's side, she sat down and exhaled deeply, her eyes closed.

A sound came from her brother beside her, and she opened her eyes. From the corner of his eye, he looked at her. His mouth was tilted up in a sly grin. "I _saw_ that," he said softly, his voice normal instead of deepened for his Wang Fire guise.

Katara felt a flash of embarrassment, and her cheeks burned. She looked away. "There wasn't anything to _see_ , so you saw _nothing,_ " she answered.

To her dismay, Sokka chuckled. "I _saw_ it," he answered.

"Shut. Up," was her reply. She kept her head turned away out of spite and to prove a point, but without control, she felt herself smile shyly, her hands going to her hair and tugging.

She had seen it, too.


	2. Chained to You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Spoilers for the series up to The Boiling Rock, Part II, as well as for the short story, Going Home Again. Occurs post-aforementioned.

_**Mai**_ _: I guess you just don't know people as well as you think you do. You miscalculated. I love Zuko more than I fear you.  
_ _ **Azula**_ _: No,_ you _miscalculated! You should have feared me more!_

Loyalty is a crazy thing.

Despite how often you're abused and mistreated by the ones you care about, you still end up being loyal to them somehow. Whether it's being there for them in a pinch, or making sure that they're still doing okay, it always ends up being something that you know, in normal circumstances, with anyone else, you would have never even dreamed of doing any such thing.

Perhaps that was how it was for Mai.

She had seen the signs early on in their shared childhood. Oh, sure, it was all fun and games as children, pretending to be warlords and having pretend coups against Ba Sing Se or the Water Tribes, but Mai had always thought it was fun and games.

She should have known better.

Something clanked against the bars of her cell, and Mai looked up slowly. A prison guard waved to her. "Dinner's up, miss," she said. Her tone wasn't nice, but it wasn't mean, either.

Mai sighed, then sat up on the cot. "I guess I have to eat it," she replied, not really expecting an answer.

"If you want to stay alive, you do," was the crass response. Mai narrowed her eyes, but the guard simply laughed and strode away.

Mai rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the tray on the floor. It could have been worse, she reasoned. Being a governor's daughter ensured that she wasn't mistreated. No one had laid a hand on her in an abusive manner, although she had seen instances of it within the prison. And it could have been worse than that: she could have stayed on the Boiling Rock.

But she was still in jail. And it still hurt.

Mai wasn't the type to mull over personal woes, and now was no exception. She was the type to keep it inside and find ways to unleash it physically or verbally, be it with her shuriken or her wit.

But sometimes, however, she envied Zuko and his ability to be so free with his hurt and rage.

 _Zuko…_

"There goes my appetite, such as it was," Mai muttered, bringing her legs up under her chin and wrapping her arms around them. Just thinking of his name brought up images of him into her mind's eye, of the last moment she saw him before Azula imprisoned her.

Agni, he was such a prick. Not even telling her that he was leaving, not even sharing with her that he wanted to leave…it was just the kind of self-centred attitude that made her sick.

 _It never occurred to him to let me in,_ she thought sullenly. _It never occurred to him to just_ ask…

And then there was Azula, who didn't ask, either. Instead, she _demanded,_ even so far as putting her baby brother at risk. Maybe it was a royalty thing.

But then, Azula had always been that way. She always demanded. She was always bossy, inconsiderate, and always demanded the full attention of everyone around her. When anyone bettered her, she punished them. Even her own best friends. Maybe even _because_ they were her best friends, and were foolish enough to allow themselves to be bullied into things.

Despite being older than Azula and Ty Lee, Mai had always played with them. She lived close by, and her father and Ozai were comrades as well. Even in the Academy, they always made sure to seek each other's company. It wasn't just a shared past thing for Mai; she really did like Azula, and was certain that her ambitious friend would make a difference in the world, for the Fire Nation and for everyone.

But along the way, something went wrong.

At first, Mai didn't see anything wrong. Azula was just Azula. She was cunning, intelligent, and razor-sharp. Nothing got past her, ever.

But somewhere along the line, Mai started to see signs that perhaps Azula's cunning was being replaced by ruthlessness. She was colder, far colder than Mai had ever known her to be. And then, when face-to-face with her childhood friend, she realised that it wasn't Azula that had changed, but Mai herself. Azula had _always_ been that way. It was Mai that was changing.

And she knew why.

"Ugh," she mumbled, the thought bringing up Zuko's face again. His eyes, either full of his agony or full of childish joy. His voice, either husky with pain or rich with teasing. His arms, so strong, yet when they held her they were so gentle. His eagerness to please her. His desperation to win his father's love.

 _Why didn't you just_ ask _me?_ She thought angrily.

Mai wasn't like Ty Lee, who had no qualms about attracting men into her circle of attention and being pampered by their adoration. She didn't find random guys cute, nor did she avidly seek them out. Romance was always the furthest thing from her mind, even as a kid, although she was loath to admit that she always had a soft spot for Zuko as a child.

She wouldn't have imagined that being reunited with Zuko again in Ba Sing Se, after almost four years, would have come to anything. _Of course,_ Mai thought with a slight smile, _I think I'm the only one who thought that way._

Indeed, the romantic dinner set-up was almost too corny to go through with, and once Mai's eyes fell on it she almost died from her embarrassment (and also secretly wondered if she was that transparent). But once she sat down with Zuko and found him wincing at the music just like she was, and then again, when he finally lost his temper and blew up at Azula and Ty Lee…she found herself enjoying not just the amusement, but his company.

She had _missed_ the games, _missed_ the fun they used to have, missed the time spent teasing Zuko in order to get him to explode (which was _always_ funny). Having fun at his expense (it wasn't every day she got to slap a dead fish on the crown prince's head) brought it all back, but it was brought back as something more intense, something deeper and more…intimate.

Seeing Zuko the way he was after the siege of Ba Sing Se was not just hard, but it was difficult. He was so confused, so torn, so different from the arrogant little kid that was on top of the world. But she found herself not minding too much. It wasn't hard to bring that kid out again, anyways.

Perhaps it was because his own father burned him. Mai wasn't sure. She hadn't been allowed to see him after the fated Agni Kai, and she didn't attend it (although Azula had been so excited about it she was practically bouncing). By the time she had heard that he was recovered from his ordeal, he was gone.

Mai wasn't a fool. She knew that Zuko returned to the Fire Nation in order to be near Iroh. But she also knew that, while it was the main reason, it wasn't the only one. Though he never said it then, she could see it in his eyes: he had missed her, too.

The time she had spent with him alone, wasting the hours away bossing servants around, eating rare and exquisite foods, laying together in a warm embrace and watching the sun go down…those days, those simple, lazy days, had been the happiest days of Mai's life. Without even realising it, she had slipped, fallen, and had become irrevocably smitten.

Only to have her heart broken.

 _Idiot,_ she thought acidly, although she wasn't sure if it was towards Zuko, or to herself.

She had been angry. She had been hurt. She had shed some tears and had spent her rage making herself stronger. But she got over it. She moved on.

Or so she thought.

When her uncle had told her that Zuko was on the Boiling Rock, she felt like someone had punched her in the gut. She _had_ to see for herself, _had_ to get an explanation…she _had_ to understand…

It backfired. Instead of being calm, just seeing Zuko again brought Mai's rage and hurt to the surface, and she reacted, badly…

But then, the moment Zuko had trapped her in the cell, she _knew_. She saw it in his eyes. He hated to do this to her again, he hated to hurt her again, but he had to, _he had to,_ because it was the right thing to do.

And that's when she realised that he was _right_. And that she was a fool for following Azula.

It was that, and that alone, that allowed her to lose her fear and throw it all to the wind.

Mai sighed, the deepest one yet, and slowly slid her legs back down so that her feet touched the floor. She reached up and rubbed her eyes angrily. She hated tears. They were pathetic.

The food looked good.

Slowly, she got to her feet, leaned down, and picked the tray up, examining it closely. It looked passable, although it was a far cry from fruit tarts.

The thought, despite it all, made her smile a little. She walked with the tray back to her cot, sat down, and ate slowly. She wasn't going to mope. It wasn't her style. She was going to wait it out, be patient, and see it through.

She wasn't going to be here forever.

Mai closed her eyes and continued to eat slowly. She would count the days, add them up…and punish Zuko every day for the same amount of time she wasted in her cell.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with a smile on her face.


	3. After the Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place right after "Sozin's Comet: Avatar Aang" and contains spoilers.

Slowly, leaving them both breathless, Katara pulled from the kiss, but not out of Aang's arms. He held her so tight that she didn't think she would be able to move away, anyway. _If I even wanted to,_ she thought, her heart skipping a beat.

She looked right into his face, seeing the love glowing in his eyes, seeing cheeks as pink as her own. He looked bewildered, surprised, but he also looked so happy. "Wow," he whispered. "That was...wow."

Katara's face burned, but she smiled even more, looking away shyly. "I hope you understand what I'm trying to say with that," she admitted.

Aang tilted his head to the side so that she had to look at him. He blinked, his eyes wide. She swallowed, her mouth dry. _He doesn't understand?_

Slowly, hesitantly, Katara pulled away. Aang held out his arms for a moment, then let them drop, his smile fading. Katara sighed. "Basically," she said, her voice soft, "it's not just because of Ozai's defeat that I'm here, with you, right now."

"I know," Aang replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"But I don't want you to think that I'm here just because you're the Avatar, either," she blurted out, realising the moment the words left her lips that it had been bothering her.

"Katara, you really don't have to explain." And here Aang placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing hard.

"I think I do," she answered. "When...before...when we kissed, and I was confused..." She hesitated, the words sticking in her throat. She hated thinking back to that day, back to that horrible memory, back to the image of Aang's face, so hurt and confused, as she rejected him. "It wasn't because of my feelings for you."

Aang paused. He obviously was surprised by this. "Why did you leave, then?" he wondered softly.

Katara turned back to him. "I was telling you the truth when I said I was confused, but it wasn't for the reason that you think it was." Unsaid between them were the words, _Zuko and how you feel about him_ , but it was so obvious that it didn't need to be said. "I was scared."

"Scared?"

She nodded. She stared into his eyes. "I lost you once, Aang. I didn't want to lose you again, twice: both here-" she touched his shoulder "-and here." She placed her other hand over her heart.

"Katara," he murmured, his eyes wavering.

"I wasn't sure. I was being selfish, I know that, but...I didn't know. I wasn't sure."

"I'm sorry," Aang reached out, took hold of both of her hands, and carefully drew her to him, holding her in a close embrace. She hugged him, hard, burying her face into his shoulder. "I'm sorry I did that, without even asking, without even thinking." She knew what he meant: the ambushed kiss.

"I know," she murmured, her voice thick. "You were scared, too, huh?"

Aang blushed a little. "I can see how you can figure that out, seeing as how I've kissed you out of fear before."

Katara drew away, looking up at him and grinning. "All this time I've been giving you happy kisses, and you only kiss me when you're about to die. How do you think that makes a girl feel?"

Aang's smile faded, and his blush deepened. "You don't really think that, do you?" he wondered weakly.

Katara rolled her eyes and leaned in close, kissing him again on his silly lips. Aang kissed back, and she swore she felt him giggle against her lips.

This kiss was longer, but sweeter; the faint grey cloud of doubt was finally gone.


	4. Necessary Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Occurs post-series and contains spoilers. Implies one-sided Ty Lee/Azula.

  


Mai couldn't help but wonder.

They were sitting together, in Ty Lee's modest but comfortable home. Each Warrior of Kyoshi Island had their own small place to call home. With each graduation in rank, their homes got bigger, so as the newest of the bunch, Ty Lee's was rather modest. However, looking around, Mai could already see that it suited her just fine; everything was dressed in pinks and purples, and the occasional green would poke up every once and a while.

Ty Lee, herself, who sat in front of the dresser and was busy taking out her hair ornaments, looked comfortable and at home, despite its size. Mai wondered if it was a far cry from the circus that she had loved so much, but then. Judging from the make up, doubted it; there were enough similarities to make it familiar.

Mai was sitting on the bed, amidst a somewhat furious comforter of hot pink and flowery yellows, when a sudden question popped into her head, and it burst out before she could call it back.

"Ty Lee, did you love Azula?"

The girl paused in what she was doing, her hands in mid-air. "Love," Ty Lee echoed, her eyes dark. She was carefully removing her make-up from her cheeks and neck, still dressed in full armour. "I did love her. I _do_ love her, in a way, I guess."

Mai leaned in closer, curious. She almost regretted bringing it up, but she had to know. "Explain."

Ty Lee looked at her through the mirror, smiling shyly. "You know I've always looked up to Azula, especially when we were kids. It was like you and Zuko."

Mai shook her head. "No it wasn't."

Ty Lee nodded. "Yes it was. You watched him from afar, it's true, but I saw how it was; there was a kind of worship there, however subtle."

"Whatever."

"Anyway," Ty Lee went on, probably sensing that if she pressed it there would be a fight; Mai was sensitive about how she was when she was younger. "I guess it was, sort of like, I wanted to be _like_ her. And then as we grew up, I just wanted to be _with_ her, forever, because she was so strong, and so determined." Her eyes grew sad. "I wanted her to look at me sometimes, but it never came. Even when I thought she was looking, she never focused."

Mai reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"But," Ty Lee continued, clearing her throat a little. "When I saw you stand up to her, and I saw how you looked at Zuko...and when you were fighting so hard and so bravely..." She sagged a little. "In a split second, I started to realise something: Azula would, and never could, see me beyond my usefulness. Even during the times that she showed any sign of doing so, she just...looked through me. I realised right then that I had always known, all along, that she would _never_ see me."

"Then why did you keep following her?" Mai wondered, her voice soft.

Ty Lee's eyes sparked a little. "Why did _you_?" she shot back.

Mai wondered what button she had pressed to deserve _that_ , but she decided to answer, anyway. "I admired her, too, in a way," she admitted, her fingers absently toying with a knife hidden in one of her sleeves. "She had guts, and she was never boring. She never gave up." She shrugged a little. "We had always been friends."

Ty Lee frowned. Mai could tell that this wasn't the answer she had been expecting, and if she were honest, it wasn't the whole truth. Azula was like the sun for Mai, really; blazing, unyielding, and incredibly strong. Watching someone younger and smaller than herself push her way through it all and have enough power to influence hundreds of people...Mai was just one of those people, but sometimes she wished she were as passionate, too.

"Alright," Mai said finally, holding out her hands. "I admire...admired...her. I was caught in her..."

"Aura?" Ty Lee supplied.

Mai made a face. "For lack of a better word, sure. But then..."

Ty Lee nodded slowly. "Zuko."

" _Whatever,_ " Mai propped her chin on her hand, looking away.

Ty Lee laughed a little. "Mai, you can't hide from me. You never had any doubts about following her until you and Zuko met up again."

"So?" Mai snapped, her face warm. "Fine. Whatever. I love him. It changed me. _So_?"

Ty Lee giggled again. "So, silly, it changed me, too." Her smile faded. "You looked...pretty much ready to die for him, Mai."

Mai looked away. "I was," she admitted.

"That stopped me, and made me see that while I thought I wanted her to see me, what it really was..." Her eyes lowered. "She really was a beacon for me, Mai. But she terrified, and terrifies, me. At first, when things seemed like old times, it was great. But then...when we got back home." Her shoulders slumped. "I started to feel weird. So I just...kept going, hoping it would go away."

Mai nodded. She knew _exactly_ what Ty Lee meant. "It didn't."

Ty Lee looked up, turned around, and met her gaze. Her eyes looked haunted. "It didn't," she agreed. "And when you said...what you said, I realised it was dead long ago, and that I was...scared."

Mai stood up, closed the distance, and held out her hands to her. Ty Lee got to her feet and fell into the older girl's arms, already shaking with her sobs. Mai held her close, her eyes stinging a little, but she swallowed her tears.

"I loved her," Ty Lee murmured, her voice strangled. "Why didn't she see me?"

Mai stroked her hair slowly. "I see you," she admitted.

"Not _that_ way."

Mai smiled a little. "You're right."

"I can't believe I still love her," Ty Lee went on, her face buried into Mai's shoulder. "After all that she did to me, to you, to Zuko, to everyone, _I still love her and it still hurts!_ "

Mai shushed her gently, but the tears got worse. She was expecting that they would.

A small part of her wished that she hadn't asked. But the larger part, the kinder part, was glad she had. Obviously, despite her new life, Ty Lee was spending her days in silent torment, trying to move on with her life while a part of her prattled insanely in the annals of the asylum. This was probably the first time she had even allowed herself to cry about it.

Mai carefully walked her over to the bed and sat down beside her, taking her back into her arms. Ty Lee's tears didn't stop for a long time, and by the end, most of her make-up had washed off and onto Mai's dress. Neither of them really cared.

Once she was calmer, Ty Lee asked, "How can you look at Zuko and not see Azula?"

Mai was surprised by the question. "To me, there is no connection," she said honestly. "Zuko is completely different from her, and from his father." She smiled without control. "He's like...a total black sheep. It's something he and I share."

Ty Lee giggled weakly. "Me, too." She pulled away slowly, rubbing her swollen eyes carefully. "I'm sorry, Mai. Your question...it caught me off guard."

"It's been bugging you, huh?

Ty Lee nodded slowly, looking very young. "All the time," she admitted. "It's only when I'm training in the dojo that I don't think about it, or her."

Mai suddenly realised something. "Did you act that way because you were...sort of hoping to change her?"

Ty Lee considered it, then shook her head slowly. "No. I just...wanted to be with her."

Mai rubbed her back slowly, and Ty Lee smiled sadly. "Ty Lee, come live at the palace," she said suddenly. "It would be just like when we hung out as kids there. Come back home."

Ty Lee shook her head. "No. I really am happy here. I just...sometimes miss her."

"Me too, you know," Mai said, a trace defensively.

The other girl blinked. "I know."

There was a silence between them. There wasn't much else to say about it. They both had grief about what happened. Even in the darkest of moments, Mai would have never wished that kind of result for Azula. It hurt her, too.

Ty Lee suddenly clapped once, smiling. "Well, I better get this stuff off for the evening," she said, getting to her feet. "There's going to be a big celebration in the square tonight; apparently something to do with Kyoshi." She blushed. "I'm still learning!"

In her flurry of undressing, Mai sat there, both confused and worried. She knew a front when she saw one, but she also sensed that it was one that Ty Lee needed to have. _Delving too much into this,_ she thought, _might do far more hurt than heal._

"Sounds boring," she replied, and Ty Lee giggled.

Things would get easier. Neither girl was alone, and that helped.

  



	5. Pictured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Spoilers for Sozin's Comet. Occurs post-series.

It was hard work, but Sokka was used to that.

He had been working on it for weeks. And weeks and weeks. Any spare time that he had was spent working on it (unless he was hungry). Whenever someone came up to ask him questions, or to just talk to him, he scrambled frantically to hide what he was doing. It was important, and it was hard work, but most of all, it was a _surprise._

It had been several months since the Fire Lord's take-down and Zuko's ascension to the throne. What was once viewed as break-time turned out to be highly stressful and exhausting clean-up work, especially when it came to the Fire Nation and their colonies. At times like this, especially when he would catch the occasional glimpse of Zuko, or even Aang, Sokka was glad that his feet were firmly planted in the Southern Water Tribe's tundra. Both Fire Lord and Avatar looked much older than they were.

But this surprise wasn't for _them,_ although Sokka wondered if perhaps he should make one for at least Aang (Zuko would probably just stare at him for a while before barbecuing him). No, this was for one special person, one that he knew would appreciate it and give him the credit it deserved.

He hoped.

"Ugh, you're _still_ doing that?"

Sokka almost crumbled the charcoal in his hand from his shock. He looked up and glared at his sister. "How do you _do_ that?" he demanded furiously. "I didn't even hear you come in!"

Katara grinned. "I have ways," she replied.

Both siblings were together again, finally home in Southern Water Tribe lands. It was something to get used to again, needless to say, when Sokka first laid eyes on the place beside Hakoda and Bato. Due to the migration of some waterbenders from the Northern Tribe, the Southern lands had never looked better. They had buildings, ones that didn't melt in the summer thaw. They had wells, and storage warehouses, and they even had more than one latrine. It was a kind of luxury that both siblings, who had grown up in near-poverty, were just not used to, but found themselves enjoying just the same.

Sokka had chosen a small, serviceable home for himself. It, too, was made of ice, and it boasted several storage units (ones he needed to store his assortments of knickknacks and collectibles gathered from his travels). It was also near the lookout tower, since old habits died hard, and this one also provided a soothing sound of water in the late hours.

It was home, and he was proud of it. But there were times he wished he could lock it up.

Sokka decided to deflect Katara away from the topic. "Where's Aang?" he wondered, grinning and drawing out the young Avatar's name as long as he could.

Katara rolled her eyes, but her cheeks did redden a little. Despite their age differences, the experiences that they had gone through had brought them together, and it was a rare moment indeed that the young waterbending woman was seen without her airbending friend. They had grown close, shared several kisses, and stayed close, as close as possible.

Sokka had had the privilege of watching it all, from the start, and while he enjoyed teasing his sister mercilessly about it, he had to admit that it was a rather keen match. He just hoped, deep down, that they would grow together, instead of grow apart, which wasn't unusual for young couples. He liked to think he knew better, especially when they were together and saw the shared joy in their eyes, but he worried. She _was_ his younger sister, after all.

"Aang is still trying to knock some sense into those idiots in the Fire Nation," Katara replied evenly, walking over to Sokka and sitting in front of him.

Hurriedly, Sokka snatched up what he was doing and shove it behind his back. "Still?" he wondered, trying to deflect Katara's eyes from his hands. "Haven't they worked it out yet?"

"Of course not," she replied. "Centuries of self-centred ignorance and superiority can't be yelled out of people, no matter how much Zuko strains his voice."

Sokka blinked. "He yelled _again_?"

Katara rolled her eyes again, this time harder. "With expletives."

Sokka whistled. He then chuckled, imagining not only the advisor's faces, but Aang's as well. "Poor Aang. I bet that was a hard mess to clean up."

Katara's eyes suddenly narrowed. "Stop hiding," she snapped. She held out her hand. "Show me, now."

Sokka felt the blood leave his face, and he inched backwards away from her, his hands behind his back. "No way," he answered. "You'll just make fun of me, and I've been working really hard on this to stop now."

His sister growled. "Come on, I already know what it is. I've seen the ones you've thrown away. Let me see!"

"No!" he snapped. "It's not done yet!"

Katara's eyes flashed, and he winced. He knew what was coming, and he also knew he had brought it on himself. And he was right. Katara raised her hands, held them flat, and jerked them to the side. The ice from the floor heeded her pull and reached up, snagging Sokka's arms and pulling them down and behind his back. His fingers loosened, and his hard work was dropped.

"Argh!" he grunted. "Katara, it's not fair!"

Katara scooted behind him and snatched it up. He kicked at her, but she darted to the side, getting to her feet and unraveling the long, slightly-crumpled piece of parchment. He shouted at her, words that would have made Gran Gran blush, but she merely ignored him, her eyes widening at what she saw upon the parchment.

"Sokka," she said softly.

He groaned, slumping backwards. He shut his eyes. "It's terrible, I know, but I'm _really_ trying, and I really want to finish before she visits. I only have a few days left."

"Sokka, it's good."

He opened one eye, and saw that Katara was being sincere. She was in fact smiling. "Not only can I tell that it's Suki, but it's also a really _nice_ Suki."

Somewhat mollified, Sokka muttered softly, "The makeup is so hard to draw, so I didn't."

'It' was in fact a drawing of the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors herself, from her shoulders up, in dark charcoal. She was without the trademark makeup and ornaments that set her and her warriors apart, but there was a hard light depicted in her eyes that revealed the warrior within.

Granted, the lines were crooked, and some of the proportions were uneven and somewhat awkward, but Katara hadn't been lying; it was a vast improvement from the horrible drawings she had seen in Ba Sing Se.

Suddenly, the ice dissolved, and Sokka was free (and now wet). He pulled his arms away and moved from the wet spot now on his floor, but didn't get mad. Instead, he looked up at his sister, feeling somewhat exposed and paranoid.

In a small voice, one that Katara was used to hearing, he wondered, "Do you think she'll like it?"

Katara carefully rolled up the picture and held it in her hands. She knelt down in front of him and lightly tapped him on the head with it. "Of course she will," she replied kindly.

"I just miss her so much, you know?" Sokka looked away, frowning. "It's hard, being apart. I know she has duties on Kyoshi, and I have duties here, but that doesn't stop me from missing her. You know?"

Katara nodded, her smile also gone. "I know," she said quietly.

Sokka looked up at her then. He smiled wryly. "We're idiots," he admitted, "falling for people who have to travel and do their own things."

Katara blushed again, but still looked wistful. "At least we can appreciate the times we have together, don't you think?" she wondered, holding out the parchment. He took it, and she sat back. "However short that time may be…"

Sokka carefully put the picture aside, then leaned back on his hands. "You miss him a lot, too, huh?"

Katara nodded, not looking at him. "Every day," she agreed.

He chewed his lip, trying to find a way to words his thoughts as carefully as he could. When he thought he had it, he said, "Well, you're both so young, and who knows what will happen! Maybe someday you won't have to worry about feeling sad that he's gone, because he'll always be gone!"

Katara stared at him, her eyes wide and flashing with anger and hurt.

 _Okay, so that apparently wasn't the way to word it._

Sokka held up his hands. "What I mean is, since you're both still sort of kids, there's no way to know that you'll be together forever, so you shouldn't dwell too much on it, you know?"

Katara gritted her teeth, and he winced. He opened his mouth to try a third time, but she exploded.

"What do you _mean_ we're both 'still kids'?" she fumed. "I mean, yes, okay, we're still young, and I suppose you could say children, but what we've been through together, what we've both seen, and fought, and have had to go through just to be together and where we are now…are you saying that counts for _nothing_?"

"Katara, calm down, that's not what I'm saying."

" _What_ are _you saying, then?"_

Sokka grimaced and cowered. "I'm stupid, please don't freeze me!"

The words broke through her anger, and she managed to collect herself. But only just. "You _are_ stupid, but you still have to explain yourself," she snapped.

"Look, I'm not saying that you don't love Aang, nor am I saying that he doesn't love you, either," he began. "But even you both have to admit that people can change, and so could you. All you need to do is look at our current Fire Lord to understand that."

"I'm not Zuko, and neither is Aang," Katara answered curtly.

Sokka couldn't help himself. "Do you sometimes wish he was?"

The punch to his arm was hard, merciless, and furious. He squawked with pain and fell over. "I am _not_ interested in Zuko!" she shouted. Sokka opened his mouth, but realised that, inadvertently, he had started a rant. "Why does everyone keep _saying_ that? Why does everyone keep _asking_ me that? I don't even find Zuko _remotely_ attractive, and yet everyone wants me to _marry_ him? All he does is push my buttons and challenge my own point-of-views! It's _not_ attractive; it's _annoying_!"

Sokka waited until Katara caught her breath before trying again. "Okay, so you don't _like_ Zuko, I get it." He sat up and looked her right in the eyes, completely serious. "And I know that you and Aang have been through hell and high waters together. But is it enough?"

Katara opened her mouth for a moment, before managing to ask sharply, "Is _what_ enough?"

"Is it enough to base a lifetime off of?" he elaborated. "How can you even look at each other without being reminded of all of that agony and blowing-up-ity?"

Katara froze, appearing to take his question seriously for a change. "Because, Sokka," she said, her voice so soft that it dried up any words he had left in his throat. "Because when I look at him, I see hope, I see joy, and most of all, I see someone who has gone through so much, been through so much pain and anguish, and yet he _still_ manages to laugh and find pleasure in the smallest of things…"

Sokka stared at his sister with new eyes. Her own eyes were full, and she had a small smile on her face. She wasn't looking at him anymore.

There was a small silence.

Sokka fidgeted a little, unsure of what to say. He knew that he had shoved his foot down his throat when he had made that offhand comment, and he also knew that he had hurt his sister by challenging something that she was, obviously, struggling with herself.

He sighed, reached over, and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. She stiffened, then relaxed, squeezing back. His apology had been accepted.

Katara pulled her hand away and sighed in return. "When is Suki due to arrive?" she wondered, finally looking at him. "And how far away should I go so that I won't hear things that would humiliate us both?"

Sokka felt his face burn, and she laughed.


	6. White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: This was a request from the wonderful the_flowergirl, for the prompt "Kataang" and "White". I had trouble at first with it, but once I thought about it, it seemed to grab me and make me write it without pause. Enjoy!
> 
> WARNING: Contains spoilers for Sozin's Comet. Occurs four years post series.

Katara loved winter.

She was definitely a Water Tribe woman at heart. When her fellow tribes-people complained of the biting cold, she threw up her hood and dashed into it. When the snow fell in heavy blankets, while everyone else hid in their homes to wait it out, Katara was often the only one outside relishing in the feel of snow on her skin.

When they were younger, Sokka was often seen at her side, either throwing her into snow piles or tossing barrages of snowballs at her until she started crying (he threw them _hard_ ). But when they started growing older, and finally, when their mother was killed, Sokka seemed to take every snowfall personally. His eyes would narrow at the first sight of flakes, and he wouldn't move from a chosen watching post until the last flake fell.

Unlike Sokka, the snow never held a sense of angst for her. The way the flakes sparkled on their way down, the way it felt crisp and cool on your tongue and eyelashes, and the way it seemed to blanket everything in its immaculate whiteness…it was like a fairy tale for Katara, a sort of romance that she celebrated every winter.

Katara always thought that, eventually, she would grow out of it. But here she was, in the dead of winter, sitting in the embrace of a chest-high snowdrift, and she was eighteen.

She was bundled up pretty well, but even she felt slightly cool. Her hood was covering her head, and the soft fur lining it tickled her cheeks occasionally. For the most part, she had her eyes closed, so that she could enjoy the feel of the cold air, listen to the sound of the falling snow, and smell the crisp freshness of the collecting mass beneath her.

It also helped that, due to her bending, she could feel the snow's patterns almost five times as much as usual. It connected her to everything around her, and at this moment, she needed all of the peace she could get.

The past couple of years had been hard, hard on her, and hard on her friends. Despite his constant searching, Aang had yet to find any hint of another airbender. If she were to be honest, Katara wasn't surprised. No one really knew how bending manifested in a person; it was completely random and sporadic. The fact that there were no other airbenders was of little surprise, especially after all of this time. That didn't mean she felt any less sad about it.

And then, of course, there was the trouble with the Fire Nation. Not for lack of trying, she knew. Her eyes fluttered a little at the thought of poor Zuko, to whom she had grown close to over the years, struggling to make ends meet as much as possible for the good of the nations. Every time she saw him, he looked older and more worn out. It was only with his marriage to Mai last year that she had seen a real light in his eyes, a real joy in his face.

Katara leaned back, lying on her back and opening her eyes a little. She squinted at a few flakes that tried to throw themselves into her eyes, but with barely a second thought, with her bending, she pushed them away gently.

Sokka, she had no idea what was going on with him. She knew that he and Suki were still together, but there had been no plans for them to live together, nor had Sokka talked about carving a betrothal necklace for her. The love was there, and it was deep and real, but Katara wondered if both of them were content with what they had. As long as Sokka was happy, she reasoned, then whatever he chose was the best decision.

She smiled a little at her next thought. Toph, the moment she had turned sixteen, declared herself officially an adult and ran as far away from her hometown as possible. While Katara knew she visited her parents once and a while, she also knew how hard it was to track the younger girl down. She was always travelling, always making use of her freedom. Despite being blind (or maybe because of it), she had made quite a name for herself, especially when it became public that she was the only known metalbender alive. Flocks of earthbenders tried to track her down, and when they managed to, often begged her to teach them metalbending. But, being Toph, she not only refused, but made sure they got as far away from her as possible in five minutes or less.

Katara couldn't help herself. She giggled a little at the thought. Toph's last letter, which had been dictated by a scribe in Ba Sing Se, described her last run in with a would-be student, who had followed her for over a month before being caught and blasted away. Katara wondered if Toph would ever take on a student after Aang. It would be something to watch.

 _Aang._

The thought alone made her smile wider, although her cheeks reddened a little. What had begun as an innocent childish crush had blossomed into something much more, something she could have never imagined.

Granted, it wasn't all daisies and roses. There were times when Aang's childlike behaviour was so frustrating, especially when Katara was trying to be serious, that she wanted to freeze him and leave him that way for another hundred years. And, Aang had admitted to her once, that she dwelled too much on what _had been_ and what _could be_ instead of _what was happening now_.

But then, despite those differences, there was a lot more to what they had.

There was joy. The happiest moments of her life were spent in Aang's company, be it doing something ridiculous like riding elephant-koi (yes, he had actually managed to sucker her into it once, although Suki had been furious) or finding ways to scare Zuko (this one she actually enjoyed completely; there was nothing like making a twenty-year-old ruler of a nation squeal out in shock like he was half his age).

There was warmth. The way one of his hands always found hers casually, the way his fingers wove themselves so naturally with her own. His hugs, his kisses, and the way he just had to fling himself into her arms when he saw her after a period apart, usually with a laugh and a few messy kisses. The way he hugged her when they were alone, when she needed comfort. The way he held her in his arms when they were sharing deeper kisses and more intimate moments.

And then, there was the love. A love that, to her surprise, Aang had never grown out of. Some dark part of her always wondered if he would, but it had been four years, and he never had. If anything, it became larger, more intense, more focused on what they really and truly had.

When Aang told her he loved her, she believed him. She believed that it wasn't just the love of deep friendship, or the love that a younger boy has for an older female friend. The way his eyes shone when he said it, the way he smiled widely on the word "love", made her feel so much more than she ever thought possible for him.

She loved him, too.

Something nearby stirred, breaking her out of her reverie. She could feel it through the snow, and she sat up slowly, her hood falling from her head. She blinked and looked around. In the far distance, she could see a few of the buildings of the village, but nothing else.

She shrugged and settled back into her nest of snow, sighing. She knew that if she wasn't careful, she would fall asleep, which would be trouble, but the snow felt so comfortable around her that she only worried about it distantly.

She was drifting off when she felt the same stirring feeling around her. She jolted upwards again, her heart racing. She wasn't just imagining it this time. Someone was nearby.

Katara found herself easily focusing on where the disturbance was centred. Years ago, such a feat would have been impossible, but now it was like second nature to her. Through her focus, she could feel that there was…something…hiding in the snow a few yards away.

Slowly, she got to her feet. The snow around her legs solidified gently, encasing her into a solid grip without hurting her. She held her hands out, poised and ready, while her eyes scanned through the curtain of falling snow.

Nothing.

"That's annoying," she muttered, lowering her arms. The snow loosened around her legs, and she sighed. Maybe she had been out for too long, and she was getting snow madness.

She was just about to start on her way back to the village when something blue and white burst out from the snow beneath her feet with a loud yell. She shouted and threw her hands up, but whatever it was was too fast, and within seconds both it and she were buried in the snow drift.

Katara froze, her heart racing even faster. Her vision was full of snow, and all she could see was white. Whatever had tackled her was still _on_ her, and she couldn't move very well.

However, before she started to panic, the snow was suddenly thrown away, and a familiar, beaming face was hovering just inches over hers.

"Gotcha, Katara," Aang said happily. "You know, you're funnier to scare than Zuko is."

Katara blinked up at him, momentarily taken aback. He leaned down and kissed her on her lips, but she was too stunned to kiss back. When he pulled away, she found some words.

"You're not supposed to be here!" she exclaimed, her arms instantly going around him. With a laugh that sounded like a shout, she pushed Aang away and tackled him into the snow. He laughed in reply and looked up at her, his eyes shining. "You said you would be gone for a month!" she accused.

Aang reached up and cupped her face between his gloved hands. "I know," he replied. "I got frustrated." Hs smile softened. "You miss me?"

Katara pulled him to her and hugged him so tight he wheezed. When she let go, she finally noticed what he was wearing, and was suspicious. "Wait a second, you're wearing…"

Aang nodded, sitting up beside her and tugging on his parka. "Sokka leant them to me. They're still too big."

Katara's eyes fell on the hat he wore on his head, and she had to admit that the earflaps were cute. "So that's how you knew where to find me," she said.

"Actually, Sokka was, uh, sort of preoccupied…" Aang scratched his cheek and went pink. "Suki and I arrived together."

"Suki's here?" Katara wondered. She got to her feet, then held out her hand to Aang. He took it, and she helped him to his feet.

"Yup," he agreed. "Sokka saw me, then saw her, then threw his parka and stuff at me and told me to get lost." He threw out his arms. "So I did!"

Katara laughed. Aang smiled, then looked around them. "Wow," he breathed out, shielding his eyes against the glare of the snow. "All you can see is white. It would be easy to go nuts out here."

Katara shrugged. "I never go nuts," she replied. "I love it out here. I could spend years out here."

Aang moved closer and placed a hand on her cheek. She looked at him. He hadn't grown much taller than her over the years - only a few centimetres - but that was okay. She herself was rather tall, and had always expected that Aang would be shorter than her.

"You're like a snow queen, out here all alone, curled up in the pockets," Aang said softly, his eyes looking into hers.

Katara smiled. "Are you making fun of me?"

Aang shook his head. "Never."

"I'm glad you're here, Aang," she admitted.

"I'm glad I'm here, too," he replied happily. She laughed.

"So I guess we shouldn't go back home just yet," Katara admitted, making a face at the sudden mental image of Sokka and Suki being 'preoccupied'.

"Nope, I wouldn't," Aang agreed. He suddenly threw himself into the snow and lay on his back, shutting his eyes and breathing out. Katara shrugged and followed suit, landing right beside him.

There was a moment when they were both silent, both relishing in the feel of the snow. Katara, inwardly, felt her heart soar within her breast. She would never have imagined, in all of her life, that she would not only find someone who understood her joy in snow, but would also share it with her, too. She reached over and grabbed Aang's hand in her own. When he squeezed, she tugged, pulling him over to her.

He scooted closer and, in a move that knocked the air from her lungs, threw his arms around her and snuggled closer to her. She smiled, pulling him tightly to her. She felt him sigh, deeply, and she laughed.

"Katara," he said softly, his voice sounding drowsy. "I love you."

She smiled and tugged on him again. He sat up, and she did the same. She leaned in close, cupped his face in her hands, and nodded. "I love you, too, Aang. Duh." When he laughed, she pulled him close and kissed him. He kissed her back.

And for along time, that was what their world consisted of: the cool embrace of the snow, and the warmth of their kisses.


	7. Footprints in the Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Occurs five years post-series and contains spoilers.

Just one glance at the prints in the snow and she knew, she just _knew_ , that they were his. With an aching heart, Katara threw her hood over her head and followed them.

Night was approaching, and even though Katara knew these lands better than she knew basic waterbending, she also knew that, especially during this time of year, the white, innocent snow of the daytime can turn into grey, unforgiving ice at night. And Aang had just stormed out of her hut and into the cold snow.

The thing was, she didn't really blame him. She really could understand why he was so angry and upset with her, enough to throw logic away and put himself in danger carelessly.

 _At least he wore a parka and a hat,_ she thought sullenly, feeling the strain in her calves as she trekked through the snow, following the faint prints like they were a beacon. Even though they were easily getting swallowed by the lightly falling snow, Katara was able to shift the flakes away long enough to keep the prints before her as clear as possible. She could still follow.

"I just...I just don't get why you have to be so stubborn about this," the memory of Aang's voice rose up so clear from her memory. "I don't understand why it's so hard to just accept it for what it is and go with it."

"Because, Aang," she answered, her voice hard. "Because you're getting way too ahead of yourself. Things like this should only be done when we're adults."

Aang's eyes were just as hard as her voice. "You make it sound like we're little tiny kids, in a little childish world, and that we haven't done _any_ of the things that we have done."

"I'm not saying that," she answered, her body filling with frustration.

"What are you saying, then?" he snapped.

"I'm saying we should just think things through more! I think we should just...we shouldn't be hasty about this kind of thing. We're talking about the _rest of our lives_."

Aang shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, hard. He swallowed, and she could see how hard it was for him to control his anger. He lost. His eyes snapped open. "Listen, Katara. I'm putting everything in this, a hundred percent, here. I always have, from the start! So I think the real problem is with _you_ , and whether or not you're serious about it _at all_."

She opened her mouth to reply, but he turned on his heel and stormed out. She called after him, but he was already out the door and gone.

Katara's cheeks burned a little from both anger and humiliation. She was embarrassed, because he was _right_. She was angry, because she hated that he was right.

The thing was, she had always thought she was serious, the most serious of all. She had put her heart into it, put everything she was into it. She shared so much, bared her soul, her heart, her body, _everything_ in these five years that they had shared together, really shared together without the looming cloud of war, and she had thought she was all in.

She was, wasn't she?

 _Aren't I?_

She looked up, her eyes falling on a patch of blue and white, barely visible in the dying light. There he sat, cross-legged, his back to her. The snow around him was gone, pushed away by his bending, revealing clear ice underneath, circling him. His back was rail-straight, but she knew he wasn't meditating: his shoulders shook a little.

Slowly, she walked over to him, kneeling in the patch of ice directly behind him. She placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. Instantly, he stiffened, but he didn't pull away. She took it as a sign, and she threw her arms around him, pulling him close, so that his back pressed against her front. He relaxed a little, but didn't turn to look at her, nor did he offer a word.

"Aang," she murmured, closing her eyes. She leaned in and pressed her face to the side of his neck, the skin partially buried under his scarf. "I'm sorry. You were right."

Aang lowered his head. "I don't like being right in this, Katara," he admitted, his voice soft.

"No, wait, that's not what I meant," she added hastily, squeezing him a little. She opened her eyes. "I mean, I wasn't thinking seriously about it, but that doesn't mean I wasn't putting my all into it."

Aang turned his head and met her gaze sideways. He looked sad. "But it's the same thing."

"No, it's not. I wasn't thinking about it because it was always _there_. I didn't have to think about it, so I never did. I took it for granted."

"I know."

Katara winced. "Hey, Aang, I'm trying to apologise, here."

Aang's lips twitched, just a bit, but he said nothing else.

She decided to go on. "I always thought that when I was 16 it would happen, but for some reason it never came up. And then, when you were 16, I thought that it was also a good time, but again, it never came up. So I just...sort of stopped thinking about it, and thought, okay, we're still too young."

Aang sighed. "I was waiting for you."

"Why?"

"Because, Katara," and here he looked right into her eyes. "You know how I feel. I just wanted to know for sure how _you_ felt. So I was waiting for you. And now that you tell me you still want to wait...it hurts. Alot."

Katara pulled him close, and this time, he relaxed. This time, he reached up and wrapped his arms around hers, hugging her back. "I don't," she murmured.

"Oh, yes you do," he answered, his voice a little hard again. "You said so, yourself."

"I was waiting for you," she replied.

"Yeah, and when I brought it up, you brushed it away."

Katara sighed, her hold on him loosening a little in her frustration. Aang took it as a hint and pulled away, getting to his feet. Katara bit her lip, but stayed where she was, letting her arms drop. Already it was almost too dark to see him save a faint outline.

Aang pulled one of his gloves off, waving his hand through the air slowly. A burst of fire came to life in his hand, giving off a faint orange glow. He turned back to her, and she could see, thanks to the fire, that his face was a little damp.

"You brushed it away, when I was asking. From what you said, shouldn't that mean that you would want to? And if you did, why blow me off like that?" His voice was angry, and she took it calmly although her hands fisted up on her knees. "If I had known that I could have asked last year, or two years before that...I would have! But I had no idea if we were on the same page! And I still don't! Do you know how hard that is?"

Katara looked right into his eyes. "Do you honestly think that I have any idea if we're in the same boat?"

Aang's shoulders lowered a little. "Aren't we?"

"Do you love me?"

"Yes, of course, you know that.

Katara nodded. "Yes, and I love you. Do _you_ know that?"

Aang hesitated. "Yes."

"Then we're on the same page, in the same boat."

Aang knelt down in front of her so suddenly that a faint puff of snow accompanied him. "Then marry me, Katara," he murmured.

Katara looked into his face, lit so nicely by the orange glow of the fire in his palm, and saw how confused he was, how sad and desperate he was. She also saw the fear. And then, all at once, she understood. _You've lost everyone you've ever loved from your past,_ she thought, reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek. _And therefore you're forever going to be waiting for those that you love now to leave you..._

Now she understood.

Wordlessly, she leaned forward and kissed him, keeping her gloved hand on his cheek. He paused for a moment before kissing back tentatively, as if he was unsure of what was going on. He closed his hand, and the fire went out, bring the darkness into play. But it didn't matter. They reached for one another, arms sliding around each other tightly, their kisses deeper and fuller. The cold was forgotten. All that mattered was this.

It was her answer.


	8. The Light in Your Hair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: This one is a little fic written for The_Flowergirl to help her along this busy holiday season. I hope it helps!
> 
> Warning: Occurs five years post-series.

The morning air was cold on bare skin, but it was the kind that felt more like a tickle than an intrusion. The sun, barely peeking over the stretched-out horizon, gave the small room a warm orange-pink glow. Aang looked around him sleepily, his firebending side responding to the waking sun. He breathed in deeply through his nose, burrowing into Katara's back closer and relishing in her scent – something like cool snow and water flowers.

The Southern Air Temple was just outside of the part of the world that suffered from midnight sun, although the days were much shorter than those in the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom. Aang and Katara, after much discussion and lots of lists of the pros and cons, decided that they would settle in the coldest and emptiest of the four temples. One this morning, Aang woke to realise that they had been staying in the temple for exactly six months.

It made him feel optimistic.

He snuggled closer, pressing right along Katara's back, his eyes trailing over her slowly. In the cresting sun's light, her hair was painted with the oranges and golds of the newborn day, highlighting the dark brown waves that spilled over the mussed pillow beneath her head. Lazily, he reached up with one hand and ran his fingers through her tresses, his other arm secured around her waist.

Even though he hadn't meant to, his moves awakened her. She breathed in deeply, stirred, and slowly raised her head, looking at him over her shoulder with sleepy eyes. "Hey," she murmured, "did I oversleep?"

"It's dawn," he replied, tucking her hair behind her ear and marvelling at how shiny it was, even this early in the morning and after a night's sleep.

Katara let her head drop back onto the pillow, burying her face back into it with a groan. She curled up against the faint chill, burrowing further under the covers, then drifted back into sleep in such a seamless way that Aang couldn't help but envy a little. Now that the sun was up, he knew he couldn't get back to sleep.

Idly, he let his eyes close halfway, his fingers still trailing through her hair. The light played on both Katara's slight form under the covers and her hair and skin above them. He couldn't help but smile, wondering a little if she knew just how beautiful she looked cloaked in the sun's rays.

Maybe the fact that she didn't was what made it sweeter. He could enjoy it all to himself.


	9. Friends and Lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: This one is weird. It was originally going to be a slash fic about Bato and Hakoda, but then, somehow, Kya wriggled her way in and it became a threesome. To me, it made more sense this way, a sort of mutual and shared loved between eternal friends. And with that, it made the loss and then the love even harder. I guess? I still have no clue, guys. So, yeah. Warnings for Bato/Hakoda/Kya, Hakoda/Kya, and Bato/Hakoda.
> 
> Also, a note on the marriage ceremony: I basically stole a bunch of things from different cultures and smushed them all together. Because the universe is a mixed-culture universe heavily influenced by Asian, Indian, and Inuit cultures, I figured a smoothie of all of the above would be apt. Don't get bitchy at me for it =O. It's not meant to offend.
> 
> Warning: Contains spoilers for "The Southern Raiders".

The love of a woman is hard to forget. Especially the love of a woman who watched you grow to be a man, to be a warrior, to be a father of her children.

The love of a woman is hard to ignore. Especially with the glowing blue eyes that shone with firelight, the brave smile through pains of childbirth, the frown of deep fear on your behalf in the face of danger.

The loss of that same woman is impossible to move away from. Especially when you failed to reach her in time, when you missed her last words, when you barely caught her last breath as she faded away from the wounds upon her body.

Hakoda knew. He knew more than anyone the pain that came from both the love and the loss.

Bato, Hakoda and Kya had always been together. As children, raised in the quieter of the two Poles, one was never seen without the other two. As teenagers, all three could be counted on to get into both the alcohol and the tobacco from the peace pipes, sometimes at the same time. As young adults...that was when things became really serious, really intense.

Despite loving both Bato and Hakoda, Kya made it clear that she loved Hakoda most of all. Which was fine with Bato, because so did he. Hakoda himself loved both Kya and Bato, but certainly, if forced to admit it, his preference lay with Kya.

He knew his mother thought it strange, this unusual romance shared between the three. But for the three of them, there was no other way to live. Their lives were so intertwined, so interwoven, that there was nothing at all that could separate them, nothing at all that could put a rift in their world.

Except when Hakoda made it known that he wanted to marry Kya.

He approached Bato with it first, but found a very hostile reaction. Later, he realised he should have expected it. At the moment, he just couldn't understand why.

"I don't understand why you think this is a big deal," Hakoda said, his voice soft. His eyes tracked Bato as the other young man paced before him, his light eyes blazing and his jaw set. "Nothing is going to change between us. The entire tribe knows. This is just a formality."

Bato stopped for a moment, right in front of him, his mouth open just a bit. He raised his hands, then lowered them, closing his mouth into a grim line and resuming his pacing.

"Bato," Hakoda said. "You know I love her."

" _I_ love you!" Bato snapped, stopping again, the force of his words halting any action. "You know I do, so why do you need to bring this between us?"

Hakoda paused, staring at him. "Between us?" he echoed, bemused. "Bato, nothing will come between us. It'll be the same, only I'll be married to Kya."

"How is any of that the same, Hakoda?" Bato wondered, his face angry. His eyes, however, were hurt. He glared at Hakoda from the corner of his eye, as if unable to look at him directly. "It was always just the three of us. Once you and Kya marry, nothing will be the same."

"You know that men can't marry in the Water Tribes, Bato," Hakoda said, his voice soft. Bato winced, looking away, but Hakoda knew that he hit on the point. "Nor can a woman have more than one husband."

Bato said nothing, his eyes fixed on the floor, staring into the glassy eyes of one of the otter-bear rugs. His fists were clenched, almost as tightly as his jaw, but he said nothing.

Hakoda rose to his feet slowly, holding out his hands to him. Bato stiffened, but didn't meet his gaze. Then slowly, without a word, he reached out, snatched up one of Hakoda's hands and squeezed it tight. Hakoda moved to pull him close, but he dragged himself away, yanking his hand back and turning away, stalking out of the tent with heavy steps. Hakoda felt a stab of rejection, as well as something worse, something deeper. He knew that the rift between them would be unrepairable.

But he loved Kya. There was no moving his heart.

The marriage was simple. The Southern Tribes differed from their Northern brothers and sisters. There was no betrothal period, nor was there a bride price or a land negotiation. Before the spirits, Hakoda and Kya were married and joined, their wrists bound by silver-threaded cord and anointed with blessed water. For a year and a day, they lay together in their tent, one they had made and shared together, learning more and more about each other.

Without Bato.

It was hard, missing one of the three that made them. But, as time went on, Kya and Hakoda soon found themselves easing into new patterns, finding new ways to spend and enjoy time together. Hakoda found himself at peace with the simple lines of Kya's face, the way her eyes shone with joy or arousal, the way she blushed from his words of love and devotion. Without Bato, it was different. It was strange. But it wasn't bad.

Except for Bato.

No one could speak to the couple during their year in solitude, unless there was a dire emergency. It was hard for Bato, who had spent his entire life with his two best friends, his two lovers, the very people he would fight tooth and nail for. To have them so close, and yet to realise that they were so very far away from him, getting further and further, was hard. It was painful.

It was almost impossible.

But then, their last day was up. The two emerged from their tent officially married in the eyes of the tribe, and Bato saw with his own eyes the transformation of his friends. Their eyes practically glowed with love and happiness, and he could see that, once they met his gaze, they hadn't forgotten about him.

Things could never be the same, but he would still have a place in their lives. For him, it was a small shred, but it kept him afloat.

It was with the birth of Sokka that he found his real place in their lives. He became family.

Kya's pregnancy was hard. Kanna had suspected as much, since, in her opinion, Kya was "too thin for proper childbearing." Hakoda had ignored her then, suspecting it was the standard mother-in-law torment, but once Kya went into labour and the real panic and trauma began, he wondered if he should have listened to his mother more closely.

Once Kya uttered her first scream, Hakoda was kicked out of the birthing tent, despite his protests that he was fine and needed to help. But Kanna refused, and Kya, between contractions, agreed.

Bato was at his side in a moment, sitting outside of the tent with him in the cold snow, shivering in both the chill and the fear. Every time Kya screamed, Hakoda would scuttle closer to Bato, until there was no space left between them. Bato held him close, feeling him shake with fear and anticipation, hoping all at once and yet hating himself for hoping so badly.

It seemed to ease the rift that had formed between them. Bato felt the vise around his heart loosen and unravel, his bitterness going with it. And when Hakoda met his eyes with wordless trust, graditude, and love, just like _before,_ Bato felt the last of his bitterness die, and the rift had vanished like a crack in the dirt between an earthbender's feet.

"Do you remember, that year when we were all ten, and Kya got trapped in the leopard-seal lair?" Bato wondered.

"How could I forget?" Hakoda murmured, his voice cracking. "I was so scared I could hardly breathe. So were you, Bato, you know that."

Bato nodded. "I know. But she made it out. And she made it out laughing and with the tooth, remember?"

Hakoda winced, remembering that part of the story. "Oh, spirits, that's right, we bet that she couldn't get a milk tooth from one of the babies."

"And she _did,_ " Bato replied.

"And she never let us live it down."

Another scream, and Hakoda shuddered, his whole body becoming smaller against Bato. He longed to be at his wife's side, longed to hold her hand, but he knew when to respect both his mother and Kya.

Bato sensed his growing distress and continued to distract him, reminding him of several past incidents in which Kya would always get herself into trouble and always end up scaring the daylights out of the two of them, only to make them look like fools later. It helped, and soon, the screaming stopped and was replaced by the sudden wails of a baby.

Both men leapt to their feet and crashed into the tent. Kya looked grey and exhausted, but one look to Kanna confirmed that she would live through it. At her breast was a small, healthy boy. Sokka.

Sokka grew up with the knowledge that Bato was Hakoda's best friend in the whole world. He grew up knowing that it was natural to have strong, lasting friendships with other men, and it didn't make you any less of a man, either. He also grew up watching a deep love between his parents, one that he would never forget in his later years.

Katara grew up the same way, but she saw things different. She saw that men had their own world, usually involving weapons or jerky, and women had another, one that was about child-raising and community. However, even she couldn't miss how important Bato was to their family.

When crisis rose up, Bato was there to help. When Hakoda was needed to solve a few fights or conflicts within the tribe when he became chief, it was Bato that stepped in and helped Kya with the kids. Bato was there when Sokka sharpened his first blade, and Bato was there when Katara completed her first scarf. He was practically a second father to them.

Bato would never forget the day the tribe lost Kya. Although no one knew why the village had been attached by the Fire Nation soldiers, they knew that Kya had been the only casualty. Katara, who apparently had been witness to a handful of Kya's last moments, was unusually sullen and quiet, hiding in shadows and shying away from anyone who tried to reach out to her.

The loss was the last straw. It would be the catalyst for the Southern Water Tribe joining the fight against the Fire Nation.

But in those few hours after losing his wife, Hakoda felt like a dying man. Kya had been his lifeline, the one who had seen him through _everything_. Even Bato, who had never left his side, hadn't seen as much as she. The pain was raw, and it was deep. It was harder to realise that his children suffered as well, and he had no way to comfort them; to him, the world was over.

While Kanna comforted the children, Bato sought out to comfort his friend. While Hakoda turned no one away from his tent, he would speak to no one as well, and would not turn away from the wall he faced, hunched over, his fingers clutching Kya's necklace so tightly that the ridges bit into his skin.

"Hakoda," Bato said softly, his voice cutting through the silence.

The other man didn't stir, didn't move. But he spoke. "I failed her."

Bato felt his heart tear a little, from both shared misery and minute jealousy. Hakoda's voice was broken, like an icicle beneath a club, and it was thick with unshed tears.

"You are only one man," Bato said without thinking, realising that these words perhaps weren't the most sensitive. He was never one to dispel condolences very well. He could only speak the truth.

Hakoda knew this. His eyes blurred a little, the bluntness of his friend's words bringing the tears loose. He knew he was only one man, and he knew he couldn't be in all places at once. If he had abandoned the fight, it could have been someone else who had died. There were already so few men left in the tribe...

"Hakoda," Bato said again, slowly walking forward to where his friend sat. He leaned down and placed his hands on the other man's shoulders, digging his fingers in. "You are chief, and you are the father of two children who have lost their mother. They, and your people, need you."

"Kya is gone," Hakoda whispered. "Do _you_ still need me?"

Bato froze, unsure – or wary – of what those words meant.

"I've always loved you, Bato," Hakoda went on, his head lowered. "I know my marriage to Kya hurt you in ways I can't repair. But you have to understand," he looked over his shoulder, his eyes swollen and wet, his face a mask of grief. "You have to understand me. I never loved you less. I can't explain it. It was different. I never loved you less. I just..."

Bato, with shaky fingers, placed a hand on his cheek softly. "I loved her, too. You loved her more. I know."

Hakoda's face crumpled. "No," he murmured. "She was... _me_. Only _her._ You're _you._ It's different..." his voice seized in his throat, and then he just lunged out and _clung_ to Bato, the sobs finally breaking free and wracking both men, the understanding so bitter and yet, for Bato, so sickly sweet.

From there, it was hard. From there, it was awkward and confusing. Without Kya, it was strange. The old patterns meant nothing. The two men had to learn for themselves how to live without Kya there. It was hard, and confusing, and painful, but as the years went by, and their love grew and grew, it became easier, smoother, until it was second nature, a given, that Bato would love Hakoda, and Hakoda, Bato.

Kya was always there, in both of their hearts. She would never be forgotten. The love of a woman is hard to forget. But the love of a man is equally hard to ignore, as well as deny. And Hakoda knew this, most of all.


	10. Soothing the Savage Breast

  


Aang prided himself on his musical ability. When it came to adapting to new instruments, he knew that it was uncanny how fast he could do it, how easy he could coax a song out of one.

But, judging from the look on Katara's face, he wasn't really adapting too well to the tautirut.

But it was _hard_. Aang was always the kind of guy who could really make woodwinds and brass instruments _sing_ for him, but this kind of thing, with its bow and strings and awkward base and having to hold it the right way and having to cock his wrist at an angle in order to make the notes sound out with the bow and _aaaaaaaargh..._

Aang groaned, his voice unable to drown out the scratchy, squeaky noises he was making with the instrument. Katara winced, her fingers twitching, as she tried to hold on to her patience.

But she failed.

"Augh, Aang, _stop, you're killing my ears_!" she shouted, lunging over to him and snatching up the tautirut from him so hard it wrenched his arms. "You're not even in _any music key known to nature_ ," she snapped, holding the tautirut to her chest like she was comforting a child.

Aang sighed, his hands going to his head. "I know, I _know_ -"

Katara sat up straight, crossed her legs, and glared into his eyes, her eyes flashing. " _This_ is how it's done."

And suddenly the small room was filled with music, haunting and aching and beautiful. From her fingers came the notes of love lost, of hope gained, and of cold winters and warm summers. Aang stared, transfixed, watching her run the bow over the strings like a pro, her eyes shut, her facial expression changing with each key of the song. Her whole body moved in tune with whatever she played, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. His whole body surged, with both love and attraction.

When she set the bow down and opened her eyes, she puffed out her cheeks, their colour flushed. "And that's how it's done," she declared.

Aang stared for just a moment longer. Then, slowly, he crawled forward on his hands and knees, gently prised the instrument out of her fingers, and threw his arms around her, his mouth crashing into hers in a feverish kiss. She murmured in surprise, but soon her arms snaked around his neck as she kissed back.

He just didn't have any words for how beautiful she was to him at that moment, how so like a mythical creature she had been while she was playing she had seemed to be. So he just showed her, with kisses, and caresses, and hoped she knew. Oh, he hoped she knew.

  



	11. The Love that Glows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Has some indications of sex, so proceed warned.

  


The shock of release - so sudden, so intense, so little like anything he had ever experienced alone - was so much, _too much_ , that Aang could do little except collapse on top of Katara with a long, tight groan, breathless, senseless, confused and dazed and yet feeling so, so energised...

Beneath him, Katara squirmed, but only for a moment. His heart froze, unable to move quite yet, wondering if her moves meant something else, something much deeper and frightening, like rejection, or regret.

But them her arms held him around his neck, holding him even closer to her shivering and clammy body, her sigh echoing deep within his chest like a gentle wave over the shore, and he managed to turn his head and meet her eyes with his. Her eyes shone, practically _glowing_ , with her love for him, there. She was smiling, breathing hard, but her hands, her warm hands, clutched onto his back so tightly and tenderly that he _knew_ it was more than just a smile.

To his slight embarrassment, he felt his lip tremble and his eyes sting, and he clamped his teeth down, hard, before burying his face into her sweet-smelling neck, squeezing closer to her, as close as possible, so that she wouldn't see. He wasn't ashamed, or embarrassed of what had just happened; rather, he was overwhelmed by the amount of emotion he was feeling, and he couldn't control it.

Katara nuzzled him affectionately, whispering into his ear, "Are you alright?"

He nodded slowly, holding her close, taking strength and comfort from her simple embrace. "You have no idea how much," he whispered back.

  



	12. Anchored

  


Always, always, Aang had trouble focusing on the here and now. He always found himself thinking, _what if this happened, what if that happened_...his mind was always looking back, wishing and wanting, wondering if something, anything, could have changed the horrible end that everyone he had known as a child had faced.

But then, whenever Katara's hands were on his face, when her lips were on his, when her tongue sucked on his fingertips and when her legs imprisoned his waist in a tight vise, he could always find solace in the _here and now_ , instead of the _what ifs_.

When she laughed, when she let him brush her hair and attempt to braid it, when she dragged him into the snow to teach him a new form of bending, everything he thought he _could have_ done melted away into _what can I do now?_

And late in the night, when Katara woke him with insistent caresses and searing kisses, urgent and fervent in her desire, and he felt his body responding so quickly it was like a sweet torture and a desperation unlike any other, all he could _think_ of was the _here and now._

 _Especially the "now"._

  



	13. Hanging With the In-Laws

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Occurs post-series and contains spoilers. It also contains spoilers for "The Silk Fan".

The wedding feast was huge, Suki saw, watching as more and more people filed into the communal ice house to greet both her, Sokka, and Hakoda. Apparently everyone within the Southern Water Tribe had been waiting for this moment, eager to see the boy they had watched grow up before their eyes marry the woman of his dreams. Even Suki, who was somewhat apart from the crowd, could see how happy he was.

And so was she. Indeed, she was incredibly happy. Her heart was so full that it was almost painful within her breast. But it was hard - very hard - to deal with so many different people, most of them strangers, at once. She had had the same problem when on immigration duty in Ba Sing Se.

Suki needed some fresh air, despite how cold it was (despite how loudly both Ty Lee and Mai moaned about it, the South Pole was _not_ as cold as they had claimed). She had given Sokka a kiss on his flushed cheek and slipped out, her elaborate gowns rustling a little as she left. Once outside, she breathed in, then exhaled deeply, finding chilling relief in the icy air.

"I agree," a soft voice replied.

Suki opened her eyes, smiling a little. In the dim light, she could make out her new father-in-law leaning a foot or two beside her, partially obscured by shadows. She nodded. "I love how everyone is so excited," she admitted, "but it's _so busy_."

Hakoda chuckled, stroking at his beard thoughtfully. "Kyoshi Island must be much more quiet," he observed.

Suki nodded. "Especially in the winter, yes. The only time it gets really busy is during festivals and winter prep. Any other time, it's very quiet. We don't get visitors."

Hakoda looked away, his eyes on the sky. "Before the war ended, the South didn't see many visitors, either. Most of us started to think that the North had forgotten about us. We had no idea that they had secluded themselves to save themselves from the Fire Nation."

Suki nodded. "Sort of like Kyoshi," she murmured.

"Oh?"

She nodded. "A few years after I landed on the Island for training, there was a mission in the Earth Kingdom which led to violence. One of the senior Warriors was killed, and the leader, my teacher, came home, buried her, and left. Her third and fourth never even returned."

Hakoda was quiet, but his eyes were back on her. She continued, not noticing his interest. She was lost in memories. "The chief took it hard; the girl that died was his niece. He took it upon himself to close the borders to any incoming ships. We kept to ourselves."

She looked down, her cheeks heating up beneath the thick makeup. "When Sokka, Aang and Katara showed up, they were the first foreigners who had ever set foot there in two years. We were untrained properly, left to fend for ourselves in the middle of our studies..." She sighed, her eyes burning a little. "It was hard."

Hakoda placed a hand on her shoulder, surprising her. She hadn't even noticed him coming closer. She smiled, waving a hand in the air dismissively. "Old memories, but they still hurt. It's been over a decade and it still hurts."

Hakoda squeezed her shoulder. "Coming home again was painful for me, too," he admitted. "After so many years stuck on a ship, unable to see my children...it was a wound that never scabbed over."

She nodded, understanding.

"Every inch of this place holds deep memories for me," he went on, his familiar eyes on hers. "Everywhere holds a shadow of Kya. It's painful, but – and I think you know this – it's bittersweet."

Suki reached up and placed her hand on his for a moment. She knew.

He squeezed her shoulder again. "You're a good woman, Suki," he breathed out, pulling his hand away and looking back up at the stars. Suki blinked, startled. "I wish you and Sokka had married sooner, but I'm so glad you're in this family. I already feel as if we're kin by blood."

Suki bit her lip, looking away. It hurt, those words. She still missed her father. Wordlessly, she came forward and hugged the older man, hard. Hakoda blinked, startled, but hugged her back, and she was grateful. She knew that he understood why she needed that hug.

Gently, he pulled away. "Shall we get back to the masses, dear daughter?"

She smiled, sniffling a little. Her heart soared. "Yes," she agreed.

He held out his arm, and she took it. Together, they walked back into the crowd.

"Suki, where were you?" Sokka cried, his arms thrown out and grabbing onto her before she knew it. "I missed you!"

She hugged back, giggling. Over Sokka's shoulder, she smiled at Hakoda, who smiled back, rolling his eyes a bit. She hugged Sokka closer, closing her eyes, grateful to this silly man who had accepted her into his family.


	14. Take Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's note: Here's one for The Flowergirl.

Katara had flown before. She had done it with Teo on the glider, and she had latched onto Aang on _his_ glider in times of panic. She had soared on Appa dozens of times, flown in airships, and sailed in hot-air balloons.

She wasn't a stranger to the currents.

However, there was something _different_ about this time, she knew. There was no fear of danger, no fear of falling or getting it wrong. There was no imminent battle, no underlying worry for how her friends were.

It was just...her and Aang. They flew on a lazy thermal, Aang using it to spiral over and over again slowly above the Southern Air Temple. She clung to him. her arms around his neck, her legs hooked loosely around his narrow waist. She felt the warm breeze raking through her hair, hear the excited beat of Aang's heart against hers, and she couldn't help but smile brightly, feeling silly and giddy and at peace all at once.

"Hold on tight," Aang murmured. "I'm going to do a loop!"

"Aang, no! Don't! Augh!" she burst out, but her words ended in a scream as he did it anyway, dipping downwards so fast it terrified her, his laughter like music in her ears.


	15. Making Waves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: And finally, one for Angelchan 2004 =D

On sunny days, a waterbender's time is always spend underneath the element they were born to bend.

Be it a guilty pleasure, or just a usual past-time, the water was where you were likely to find a missing waterbender.

But there was something unique about spending that time with someone who could bend more than just water.

Ember Island was the perfect place to just float under the water and watch the sunlight shine from above, the rays turning even the dingiest of water into sparkling diamonds. Katara floated close to the bottom, her hands gripping onto a large rock stuck to the bottom so that she could stay in one place. She looked up and smiled, the feel of the water like a warm embrace, like coming home again, no matter where she was.

A pair of arms snaked around her waist and pulled her away, making her smile and lean closer. Aang nuzzled her cheek with his, and she had to swallow the urge to laugh.

Or did she? Aang turned around slowly, using the water as a kind of buoyant aid while keeping her in his embrace. The water seemed to part above them, giving them a pocket of air around their heads. Aang grinned, looking extremely pleased with himself.

"I could have done that myself, you know," Katara teased, reaching up and rubbing the top of his head affectionately.

Aang pouted. "But you didn't," he answered. "And besides, this way, we can stay down here as long as we like!"

Katara nodded, giving him a sideways glance. He was pink, still smiling, but he was holding onto her tightly. She smiled, kinder this time. "It's nice to have company," she admitted.

Aang nodded, but his eyes wavered a little. He grinned, grabbed a tighter hold around her waist, and said, "Want to see if we can make a waterspout together?"

Katara grinned, her eyes flashing. "Absolutely," she agreed. "But no cheating. I'll know!"

A few moments later, an immense waterspout erupted from the middle of the ocean. Sitting together, under a huge umbrella and sharing a bowl of ice cream, Mai and Zuko barely looked up.


	16. Snowflakes in the Mud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: After doing some math and then blushing terribly, I realised the likelihood of this scenario is next to nil. However, this was only after I had finished the fic. I hate when that happens, I really do. However, I like this fic, so I'm going to archive it anyway. Please ignore the glaring unlikelihood and pretend it works, OKAY.
> 
> Warning: Contains spoilers for the end of Book One: Water and the series finale.

Pakku first made his intentions clear when they were both six years old. "I'm gonna marry you," he declared proudly, hands on his hips.

Kana's response was to shove him into the snow and sit on him, laughing loudly and without abandon.

Apparently this wasn't enough to dissuade him, because four years later, once it was clear that not only was he a waterbender, but a _good_ one, he brought it up again.

"You _want_ to marry me," Pakku said, slowly bending a chunk of ice into a ball of water and juggling it between his hands. "I'm gonna be the _best_."

Kana's fist smashed into the ball of water, and it exploded into droplets all over his face. "I'm marrying _no one,_ " she snapped. And she stormed away, leaving him bewildered, but determined.

When he pursued, she stonewalled. When he teased, she insulted. When he – _once_ – pleaded, she mocked mercilessly. It was a dance, an avoidance, a game that both played with each other using wits as well as emotions. It was dangerous, and was always moments away from blowing up in their faces, but it was also an addiction, one that neither could deny themselves.

When Kana was a few weeks shy of sixteen, Pakku's parents came to her parents and declared their intentions for marriage. It wasn't a bad match, after all; Pakku was already practically a master waterbender, and Kana's family was old and respected, one of the most prominent families in the entire North Pole.

When Kana was told of it, however, she thought of none of this. Her face went pale, then normal, then bright red, all in about ten minutes after being told of the news. As the two sets of parents discussed the arrangements and negotiated terms, Pakku and Kana sat and listened as their lives were changed forever. And where Pakku looked overjoyed and somewhat smug, Kana was mortified.

Wordlessly, as her father started a new sentence, she stood up. She just leapt to her feet, turned away from them, and stormed away. She left her childhood home without once looking back, already feeling like it wasn't even her home anymore. She didn't stop walking until an hour later, and it was only because she had nowhere else to go. She stood, looking up at the outer walls, not for the first time wondering what was on the other side.

It was rare to venture outside of the walls, especially since the war against the Fire Nation was getting more and more aggressive and the Avatar had yet to return. Granted, it had been decades since he had been seen or heard from, and with the Air Nomads gone from the world, it was highly unlikely that he would ever return at all. In a world without balance, no place was safe, especially for the Water Tribes.

She knew that once the Fire Nation was positive that the Avatar was gone, they would focus on the Water Tribes. Everyone knew this; the cycle of Avatars made it clear that the next Avatar would be a waterbender. The walls were the only things that kept everyone within them safe, but for the first time, she found herself resenting them; what they keep out, they also keep in. There was nowhere for her to run to.

She stood there, her breath coming out in puffs of steam, her eyes burning hot and freezing cold as the tears fell from her lashes. It wasn't just the loss of her freedom, or the fact that she couldn't even choose her own husband. It wasn't just that she was being bargained off like a polar-ostrich in exchange for barrels of seamoss. Those things were all _major_ factors that she would fight against, and they were _wrong_ , something no one should have to deal with. But none of them were the main reason.

The main factor, she knew, was the simplest one, the one that set her blood boiling.

She liked Pakku; oh, that much was true. He was enraging, exist, and arrogant, but reducing all of this with a few curt words and a snarky laugh was thrilling and enjoyable. His pouts were cute, his loud exclamations cuter, but… _But…_

Kana's freedom was her own. _No one_ had the right to choose her way of life for her. She knew this was the way of her Tribe, knew it was the way of her people…but…

 _No tradition should have the right to rob anyone of a choice that could change their lives forever…_

 _And…I can't marry someone I just don't love…_

As far as she was concerned, that moment, as she stood in the cold air shivering without her parka or gloves, she had already made her choice not to marry Pakku, no matter what.

 _But…_

She also knew she would lose him, as a close friend and as wonderful company. She wasn't a fool – she knew that, for him, the games were much more than just games, and by rejecting him, she would be rejecting a friend, as well.

 _But I can't marry someone I just don't love…_

When she returned home, Pakku met her at the front door, holding her parka in his arms. He looked worried, and when she stood before him, he said nothing. He just held out his arms to her. She took her parka from him and slipped it on, wishing she could say _something_ to let him realise that she _did_ love him, but not in that _same way…_

But he seemed to know. "You would come to love me eventually," he said softly, his eyes almost too large on his thin face.

Kana sighed. "I should love you _before_ we marry, Pakku," she answered, her eyes fixed on her boots.

There was a silence between them. When Kana looked up, Pakku's face was turned away, showing his profile. He really was a lovely man, strong and confident, funny and smart, but…it still remained that she did not love him.

But she cared about him, and she hated hurting his feelings. She reached up and, with cold fingers, touched the curve of his jawline lightly. He flinched a little, swallowing hard, but he did not turn to look at her.

"I'm so sorry," she admitted.

His eyes flared and he turned to her. _"Why?_ Why are you so… _stubborn?_ Why does it always have to be about _you_?"

"Me?" Kana spluttered. " _Always?_ 'You _want_ to marry me. You _will_ marry me.'" She lowered her voice to match his, waving her hands in the air to emphasize the words. "That _crap_ , that constant crap that you always spew…and now _this?_ This is 'all about me'?"

" _Yes_." Pakku snapped. "You _know_ we're supposed to be together, Kana! We've always been friends, always! That _means_ something!"

"It means we're _friends_ ," Kana snapped back. "Friends who care, friends who will _always_ care! But that's not enough to base a marriage on!"

Pakku's eyes went hard. "It's more than what some marriages get."

"I am _not_ debating this with you." Kana turned her back to him and stormed away, not sure of where she was going this time but also not caring. Pakku reached out to grab her arm but she jerked away, breaking into a run. With a shout, Pakku gave chase, and she threw herself into running away as fast as she could.

 _I'm being a coward…but I don't care._

She heard Pakku shout out her name, heard the loud and heavy falls of his footsteps, and felt her lungs turn cold and raw from the force of her own pace, but she didn't stop. _Couldn't_.

Before she knew it, she had reached the walls again. She veered to the left without really knowing why; she had no idea what was to the left, but as long as it was _away_ and _from Pakku_ , it was fine.

Again, she heard her name, but she ignored it. She kept her eyes forward, looking for some place – _any place –_ to lose him in.

She slipped into a dark tunnel, one of the hundreds used for transporting goods while avoiding the water channels, as well as to avoid the worst of the weather during the storm season. They were always polished smooth and clean to prevent the wheels from getting gummed up with snow and ice, so when she slipped in, she _literally slipped in_.

With a yelp, Kana started to skid and slide along the floor of it. She heard Pakku's footsteps catching up to her, followed by a loud and curse-filled stream of words, and within moments the inevitable happened, and Pakku crashed into Kana, resulting in both of them crashing to the ground.

For a moment, all Kana could see was stars. Her head had hit the surface with considerable force, and Pakku's extra weight on top of her didn't help things, either.

He didn't move, not at first. But he spoke. "I thought these kind of things only happened in stories…"

Kana's eyes snapped open and she just started _punching_ him, hitting him wherever she could. He grunted and squirmed, trying to move away from her hits, but she didn't stop, not even when she managed to land one fist on his head.

When she wore herself out, she lowered her fists, shut her eyes, and ground her teeth together. "Get off me, _now_ ," she hissed.

"Nah," Pakku replied, and to her horror her threw his arms around her and squeezed her to him. "I like it here. Nice and warm."

" _Pakku,_ " she snarled through her gritted teeth. "You're _lucky_ I'm not a bender, or else you'd be an _icicle._ Get the hell off of me!"

He sighed, the whole gesture going through his body. He propped himself up with his arms, resting his weight on his hands. He looked down at her with a frown, and Kana found herself noticing absently that his hair was really shiny in the dim light of the tunnel, dark and rich brown and shiny…lovely, really.

And the sudden softness in his eyes that made itself apparent as he met her gaze…it was both frustrating and painful. _He really wants this, doesn't he?_

"Kana," he murmured, his face dim but soft in the shade of the tunnel. "Why do you always have to fight with me?"

She opened her mouth, ready to say something rude and awful, _anything_ to get him off of her, but he seemed to just _know that too_ , and he leaned down and covered her mouth with his. She froze, her eyes going wide, something hot and fierce just _slicing_ through her body, and she felt all of the blood drain from her mind, her common sense going with it.

In all of their time together, they had never kissed, never touched, never did anything of an intimate nature. As her hands went up to his head to pull him closer, kissing him back and threading her fingers through his hair, Kana suddenly realised why – _because we would have never stopped…_

Pakku _groaned_ against her lips, leaning down and pressing his body back against hers once more, and all she could think about was how warm he was and how good he felt and how she didn't want to hurt him…

"Kana…" Pakku pulled away for a moment, his eyes huge and without any form of the usual teasing in their depths. It made him look younger and vulnerable. "Does this mean you and I…that you want…"

She kissed him, biting down on his lower lip, hard. Of course things had changed, but not in the way he wanted…she still couldn't marry him.

 _But maybe, just maybe, I can give him a moment, give him something…give him the knowledge that, in my own way, I_ do _love him…_

"Shut up," she whispered against his lips. "Just kiss me."

He did, harder and hotter than he had before, his lips warm and his tongue warmer. He pressed closer, so close that despite their layers she felt his body intimately, his hand so warm that she wondered if they would melt the ice beneath her.

He suddenly held up one arm, holding it out before sliding it back towards them, like he was pulling something. In her nest of arousal she heard the grating of ice, and suddenly everything was much darker around them; Pakku had closed the tunnel off so that they wouldn't be interrupted. It was dark, but she could still see the glow of his eyes, feel the hardness of his desire, and she stared into his face, a small smile on her lips.

It was quick, and awkward. It was too cold to undress, but Pakku managed to unbelt his pants and slid hers down her thighs enough to make it work without freezing their skin. Neither knew what to do, so everything was done based on instinct and the passion of the moment. It hurt, but more like a needle prick than anything else (she had had menstrual cramps that felt worse), when he pushed into her, and she had to hold onto him; he was eager and didn't know how to pace himself, and went too fast to last more than a few minutes.

Still, it had felt amazing and interesting, and hearing her name on his lips when he came was a nice gift.

He buried his sweaty face into her neck, kissing gently and breathing hard. She sighed, closing her eyes. She was grateful for the dark, for it hid her wet eyes.

"I'm so happy," Pakku whispered into her ear, his voice so soft – she had never heard that tone before. "I never knew…I'm so, so happy…"

Kana held him close, stroking his hair slowly. She said nothing, unable to, wishing she could correct him without breaking his heart…

"I…" He shifted a little, pulling away and reaching into a pocket to pull something out. It was dark, and she had to focus her eyes to see what he held in his hand. "I made this, a few months ago," he explained, holding it out to her.

When she realised what it was, her throat closed up.

 _A betrothal necklace…_

It was carved in traditional light-blue soapstone and sewn to a sash of rare – and expensive – silk. Without thinking, she sat up, taking a moment to pull up her pants before reaching for the necklace. Pakku gave it to her, then moved to the side, sliding off of her and adjusting his own clothes as she looked at it. She traced the cold and smooth stone slowly with her fingertips, her heart sore; the design was so intricate and elaborate that it was clear that he had put his whole heart into it.

"It means we're engaged," Pakku said, reaching out and tracing her cheek with warm fingertips. He smiled at her. "I knew you would change your mind."

Kana looked away, holding the necklace tight. With gentle hands, he took it from her and fastened it around her neck – a perfect fit.

"I'm so happy," he said again, leaning in close and kissing her lips once more. She kissed him back, holding him close, feeling deep in her heart that these moments were all they had left together.

 _I'm so sorry, Pakku…_

 _  
_

* * *

_  
_She woke before dawn the next day, sore and tired but alight with determination. She packed a shoulderbag full with a change of clothes, one of her father's clubs, all of the money she had, and several chunks of jerky and skins of water. She layered up in good, sturdy clothes and snuck out of her house, her heart racing deep within her breast.

When she reached the front gates, it was still dark, and the guards to the boatyard were drowsy. Even then, she still had to bribe them for their silence and cooperation. With some trepidation and a heavy heart, she snuck onto the closest trading ship bound for the South Pole.

And as the dawn crested itself on the world, Kana left with the ship.

* * *

"Oh, my," Hama said breathlessly, her grey eyes large. "Did you get a parting gift or what?"

Kana scowled at Hama's hands as they shimmered with blue light. She shoved her shirt down over her stomach, gritting her teeth and shutting her eyes with growing frustration.

It wasn't as if she hadn't gotten any hints – it was just that she had missed them for what they _were_. The voyage across the waters had taken months, and Kana had merely assumed that her illness was related to seasickness and climate changes.

 _Dammit, Pakku, you bastard,_ she cursed him silently, one hand clutching the pendant of her necklace tight. She hadn't taken it off since Pakku had placed it around her neck, and she found that she couldn't imagine herself without it, now. It had become a part of her.

"Shut up," she said now, trying to ignore Hama's leery grin. "How far along?"

"Four months, give or take."

 _But I already knew that…_

She had taken no other lover on her voyage, nor when she landed on the southern shores. She had been welcomed as a sister and was pleased when she saw both men and women using their bending to build as well as heal. Some things were the same as the North – only men when to hunt, and the women usually kept the hearths warm and raised the children – but couples actually _divorced_ here, and the groups were so small that arranged marriages and betrothals were unnecessary.

As a newcomer, Kana was pursued by the local men, but by that time, she had been getting hints of her condition, and, well… _there really is no etiquette for that, is there?_

Hama placed a hand on hers. It was cool and damp from the water she had just bent. "Someone from the North?" she asked.

Kana nodded, unable to speak. She felt so angry, but she also felt horribly sad.

 _Pakku will never know he has a child. There's no way to reach him, now…_

"What will you do?" Hama asked.

Kana raised her chin. "Be a mother," she said, unable to keep the slight wobble from her voice, despite the bravado.

Hama nodded slowly. "I'll help you," she said, squeezing Kana's hand in hers.

Kana nodded slowly, though she realised, deep down, that without Pakku, it wasn't enough.

* * *

Hakoda was born during the Midnight Sun season. He was healthy and robust, and had his father's smirk.

Kana adored him. She loved him. As a result, some small part of her loved Pakku even more, since he was the one who gave her this gift.

* * *

Hakoda was raised by the village men, the son of everyone. He grew to be happy, serious, and something of a jokester, too. He and his best friend Bato were tied to the hip, and together with another girl, Kya, would get into trouble more often than not.

Watching him, Kana saw the shadow of her childhood friend playing amongst other kids. In her heart, she felt bittersweet.

* * *

When Hakoda made it clear that he wanted to marry Kya, it only took one look to know that she was worthy of him. On the night of the wedding, Kana gave her new daughter Pakku's necklace. Still warm from her skin, Kya fastened it to her neck shyly, her eyes full and her smile wide.

She never took it off, despite not knowing what it meant.

* * *

When Pakku walked onto the shores, Kana moved slow. Her steps were awkward, her vision slightly blurred, and she was old, now. Pakku froze upon seeing her, looking older and greyer, and yet strong and fit and undeniably cocky and confident.

She slapped him. _Hard._

He hugged her. She let him.

It took time, but the hurt healed. In the end, she told him everything that had happened – Hakoda (although she did not tell him who his father was), the raids by the Fire Nation, Kya's death, the Avatar's reawakening…

He listened to it all, his eyes wide, a shadow of that boy she had known so well. And when she was finished, he offered her his story – how he stayed alone, became a Master, taught Kana's own granddaughter how to be a Master, realising that his place was now in the South…

And after a while, they found themselves falling into those old patterns, those old dances, those teasing and taunting dances, despite the fact that where there was once rich brown hair was now silver, where there was once smooth skin was now wrinkled and marked with time…

Soon, Kana realised that this time, it _was_ love. It was so strange, but true. When she touched his hand, held onto his hair, dragged him away by the ear, it was all done with a smile. And when she looked into his eyes, saw he didn't fight back, saw the mirth dancing there and saw the coy smile on his lips, she realised he felt it, too.

The next necklace he made for her, she kept close to her heart, as close as she kept the truth about Hakoda's parentage. It was the deepest gesture that he could ever make to her – through it, she knew that he had never stopped loving her, never forgot about her, and still wanted to make this work.

But even though she had tried to protect Pakku from the truth of things, he knew. She could see it. She said nothing, and he said nothing, but the moment he met Hakoda, something clicked in his eyes, and she knew he knew. That was the night he proposed, the night that she said, this time, yes.

Because she did love him, now. She could marry him, now that she loved him.

 _Finally._


	17. First Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: This was a prompt from The Flowergirl, looking for some Sokka/Toph fluff.
> 
> Warning: Occurs post-series and contains spoilers.

"No way, Wolfbutt!" Toph screamed it, screamed it as loud as she could, and yet Sokka wouldn't let go of her shoulders, nor would be steer her back to the shore. "No! Let go, piss off, and leave me in peace!"

"Nope," Sokka answered. "Think of this as doing me a favour."

Toph squirmed, trying to break his grip, and then stopped immediately when it became clear that if she continued, her feet would give way from beneath her. She instead leaned in closer to him and clung onto him, shrieking.

From the shoreline, both Katara and Suki laughed, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Come on, Sokka, let it go," Katara advised.

Sokka scowled. "No! I had to pester Zuko for weeks for the materials to make these, and so help me, we're going to use them!"

"Okay." Suki agreed, a hand out. "But why Toph?"

Toph felt her face heat up, and Sokka smirked. "She volunteered."

"I didn't know that these things would suspend my feet several inches from the ground!" Toph protested, her fingers digging into Sokka's shoulders so hard that he yelped and tried to tug them away. "It's bad enough I can't see properly in this stupid place, but then you decide to take away what I _can_?"

"Are you kidding me?" Sokka growled, finally managing to prise her fingers from his shoulders. _"You volunteered!"_

Toph snagged his hands, unwilling to let go.

Katara sighed, leaning back on her hands. Suki leaned forward with a smile, finding a sort of perverse amusement in watching the two grapple and bicker amicably. It _was_ a little weird, after all; Sokka had spent most of the few months in the new peace holed up with the Mechanist, inventing new tools to make living in the Poles easier. When he came back with what looked like naked blades, Katara had thought he had finally lost his mind. But when he snapped them onto one of the ice floe boots and showed how it skidded over ice and snow, she was intrigued.

And for the most part, it was working. Toph's moves were jerky and scared, but she was sliding over the ice without much resistance. Katara had to admit that it was rather ingenious, although she would never tell Sokka to his face.

"Just push her!" Suki suddenly called.

Sokka grinned, and Toph went pale. "No, you better not," she snarled. "If you push me, so help me, Sokka, you're dead-!"

Too late. With a heave, Sokka shoved her away from him. She screamed as she skated along the ice, her arms flailing wildly while cursing up a storm. He followed her shortly after, skidding on the ice while catching up to her, and just when it looked like she was going to fall, he caught her.

"Holy shit," she wheezed, her face bright red, resuming her clinging onto him once more. "Again, again!"

Sokka stared. So did Katara and Suki. "What?" they chorused.

Toph grinned. "Again, again!"

So Sokka pushed her, harder this time. She screamed and flailed, but there was a sense of enjoyment in her moves this time, and when her speed died down, she screamed at Sokka to push her again.

Suki was laughing so hard she was crying. Katara just watched with wide eyes, especially when Toph grabbed onto Sokka at the last minute and shrieked in pleasure as he skated along the ice with her, his laughs joining her yells.


	18. Live Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: This was a prompt from Canon Kink and contains heavy Ty Lee/Azula femmslash.
> 
> Warning: Contains slight spoilers for Book Two.

_She is like fire,_ Ty Lee quickly learns. She blazes like an inferno when a mere spark sets her off, her anger like a flash of lightning and just as dangerous and deadly. When she is happy, her eyes blaze with passion, her mouth twisted into a grin of malice and joy. When she is sad, she turns to smoke, shapeless and shifting and never remaining in one place. When she is aroused...her yellow eyes are like the centre of the sun, pure and golden, focused only on Ty Lee, as if no one else exists or ever will.

But she consumes like fire, too. When Ty Lee kisses her, her mouth burns and stings from Azula's lips. When she touches the other girl with soft hands, she is met with a harder hold and even harder kisses. She controls, commands, her eyes on fire, like it is the element that bends _her_ , and not the other way around.

When Azula comes, she is like molten lava, boneless and keening, her hands thrown into the air, her legs tighten around Ty Lee in some way, shape or form as she crests. She doesn't laugh, doesn't scream, but she murmurs and whispers, sometimes smiling with her eyes closed tight, her hands balled to her chest in tight fists that smoke.

Ty Lee knows she is burning alive from this. She knows that it is one-sided, and Azula is an opportunist that demands worship over real affection. But Ty Lee loves her, and cannot stop. She kisses. She touches. She drives her fingers into Azula's core and watches her blaze, sometimes thinking she will go blind from the sight.


	19. One More Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: This was a prompt from The Flowergirl once more.
> 
> Warning: Occurs post-series and may contain spoilers.

Katara woke up slowly, the poking sunlight annoying and insistent in her eyes. She scowled at it, hating it for interrupting her slumber and general peaceful feeling that she had been enjoying.

It was morning. It was time to go.

From around her waist a bare of arms tightened their hold as if sensing her thoughts, clutching tight, soft fingers tickling bare skin a little. She closed her eyes and smiled, leaning back closer against a very sleepy Aang as he struggled to wake up.

"Hey," she said softly. "Wake up. I have to go soon."

Aang scooted closer, his hands tightening their hold, burying his face into her shoulder and shaking his head slowly. "No," he answered, his voice muffled by her skin and hair. "You're lying. You have to stay. For years. Forever."

Katara giggled softly, especially from how sulky he sounded. "I wish I could, but you know I have to meet Dad in a few hours."

"Why," Aang answered. "Why do you have to stay there for so long? Just stay here. With me. Forever."

Katara smiled, leaning back and nuzzling him softly. "I would if I could, Aang. You know that."

"One more day. Put it off for one more day. I'll make it worth your while."

Katara was about to open her mouth to protest, or perhaps ask _how_ he thought he could make her stay, when her answer came soon enough. He pulled himself up and on top of her, pressing close and smiling wide, in that sly way that he always did when he thought he had won.

When he leaned down and covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply and softly, she felt her body respond without a second thought, snaking her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He was already hard, and in moments was inside of her, moving slow, heartachingly slow, and yet just perfect.

And he was right.

"One more day," she agreed breathlessly, kissing him shortly after.


	20. Strength and Weakness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: This has two prompts from The Flowergirl once more.
> 
> Warning: Contains spoilers for Book Three: The Boiling Rock Parts One and Two.

The _bastard_. Who did he think he was?

Suki had found herself content with the fact that although their paths had crossed, and there was real affection and a spark of... _something..._ between them, it was unlikely that she would ever see Sokka again. She had nursed her slight feelings of pain that resulted in accepting this, and as she was wont to do, she bounced back, still inspired by what his brief presence in her life had done.

And then their paths crossed again in Ba Sing Se, and she almost _hated_ herself for how happy she was, and ended up getting caught up and lost in her feelings, realising that he felt the same way despite so obviously strugglign with something deep down inside...

But now she wished she hated him. It was easier to spend her days hating, huddled up in this cell, alone with her thoughts and no other company. It was easier to wish that things hadn't ended nicely between them, wished that she could hold a grudge.

But she couldn't. Instead of hating him, her days were spend wanting him, needing him, wishing for him. It ate away at her insides, and instead of hating _him_ , she felt hatred for _herself_ , for being so weak and so unable to control her own feelings.

* * *

Mai liked Zuko - that much was obvious. It was easy to understand this aspect of herself, because it was just so damned _clear_. Even as a little girl. Even as a young woman.

Her cheeks always felt warm when she saw him. Her eyes always closed and captured any image of him, wanting to preserve it and save it to cherish later when she was alone. Her heart always fluttered when she touched him, when he touched her, no matter what part it was that made contact. She felt a thrilling sense of battle when he challenged her, made her think and feel and _wonder_ , and she always had, because he always had that way of making her think.

That was regular affection. Of _course_ she felt that way. It was normal.

Except that she didn't feel that way when anyone else touched her, or looked at her, or spoke to her. She didn't feel that way when anyone else challenged her, or smiled at her, or made her laugh. Everything and everyone else in comparison seemed boring and grey, lifeless and dull, and only Zuko held that spark of life that she so desperately craved in a world that was cold.

And it was only when his life was in danger that she realised her own was forfeit as a default. And it was then that she knew.

She loved him. Had all along. And always would. _Even in these last seconds of her life..._


	21. Work-Related Stress Threapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: A prompt from Twistedfriction, looking for some Maiko fluff.
> 
> Warning: Occurs post-series and contains spoilers.

"Take it easy, Zuko, will you?" Mai's voice was sharp, and the knife she held close to his throat sharper. Zuko gulped, knowing she meant it but unable to really process it. "You've been running around the Palace without stop for days. You barely sleep. Now is the time to rest. Robes off, pajamas on, and hair loosed, or you're going to get it."

Zuko waited until she lowered the knife before he moved. Mai's hands vanished into her sleeves, her eyes bright with conviction. He knew what that meant, and slowly he went about doing what she asked – no, commanded .

He understood, really. He had been rather stretched too thin as of late. But there was so much to do and it seemed like there was no time to do it. All he wanted was the peace to finally settle in already so that he could sleep without dreaming of his own paranoia.

Mai took pity on him halfway through his undressing and helped him, loosening layers of silk and leather armour hidden beneath, tossing the articles aside like they were nothing but dusty refuse. Once he was clad only in his undershirt and pants, Mai's long fingers went right to his shoulders and dug in, and he groaned, melting under her grip as she massaged the kinks out of muscle and sinew.

"Idiot," she said softly into his ear, and he heard the worry in her voice. Zuko muttered something wordlessly, leaning back against her body and taking comfort in how soft and warm she was. "Bed, now."

He was practically shoved onto the bed, but he was so tired he didn't care. He didn't even have the energy for pajamas. He landed on his front, face-down in cool silk sheets, and he didn't even so much as blink when Mai sat down right on his back, her hands in his hair, freeing it from its topknot. He grunted at that, especially when she ruffled his hair out of the shape of the knot.

"Mai," he murmured, his eyes closed. "Come lie down with me."

"In a minute," she replied. She sat down on his backside and massaged his shoulders again, sending him into a moment of pure and unmatched bliss. He was almost asleep when she slipped down off of him. He heard the rustling of clothes and the sound of her blowing out the candles. Then, the best part – Mai herself, lying right beside him and sliding her arms around him, resting her cheek onto his hair. When she sighed deeply, every muscle in his body relaxed.

"Mai," he whispered again, and she snuggled closer, planting a soft kiss on his burnt ear.

"What is it?" she wondered, her voice so tender it shot into his heart.

"Love you," he mumbled, sleepy and drowsy and buried in bliss.

He felt her bury her face into his neck, felt how warm her cheeks were, and he smiled a little. "Whatever," she muttered back, and he reached out and slid an arm around her waist, holding her close.


	22. Away With You (AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: A prompt from Floranna, wondering what would have happened had Mai joined Zuko in his banishment. I kept this one short and sweet, since SaraJayechan has already done it (and done it better), but I still wanted to write it, so...here it is!
> 
> Warning: Contains spoilers for Book One: The Sto

"Absolutely not."

Mai's eyes narrowed, her nails digging into her palms. "I'll pretend you didn't quite hear my question and I'll ask it again."

"Don't even," her father snapped, throwing his hand out in frustration. "The fact that you have to ask makes me think we're not teaching you properly."

"Really," her mother said, sounding wary. "Asking such a foolish thing. How ridiculous."

Something inside of Mai snapped. "You're right," she said, straightening up. "It was silly of me to ask."

Her parents seemed to both relax.

"I'm not going to ask. I'm just going to _go_."

She turned on her heel and stormed out of her home, barely fourteen and already an adult.

* * *

Zuko was stuck in the middle of a fever dream. He was hot, and sweaty, and he couldn't breathe. All around him were shadows, and everything tasted of ash. The shadows suddenly merged and became his father. He stumbled back, tripping on the cold marble floor, back in the stadium and helpless, held immobile by his father's impassive face, but Ozai's hand went out and grabbed onto his face, and he screamed and screamed and—

"Wake up, Zuko. It's a dream."

The voice was so familiar it hurt. He had to still be dreaming. There was no way this piece of home had followed him into this metal hell of pain and suffering.

But the hands on his forehead and bare scalp were cool and light, not like his uncle's warm and wide touch, and he opened his good eye, his heart racing.

Yellow eyes under a curtain of black bangs met his gaze. Her face was drawn with sadness, but when she looked at him, there was no disgust or pity. "Hey," Mai said softly.

"M-Mai," he stammered, unable to control his voice. His throat felt thick and sore at the sight of her.

"Yeah," she agreed. She moved her hands from his forehead to his hands and held one of his between them, stroking his palm gently, as if they were still in front of the turtle-duck pond. "I hitched a ride. I've always wanted to travel around."

Zuko stared at her. He was never sure when she was teasing him or being serious, and he wished he had some kind of indication, especially now. "You…you what?"

Mai leaned in close, so close that he could smell her skin and her hair, and he reddened, wishing he could sit up and touch her, wishing he could do _something_ , but he was still too weak and tired from the Agni Kai.

"You forgot something," she said softly, a small smile on her lips.

Without thinking, his hand jerked up to his chest, palm brushing over his breastpocket, and to his surprise her eyes danced in delight. "No, I know you have _that_ ," she said. "You forgot something else, something more important."

"What?" he whispered.

"Me," she replied, leaning down and kissing his dry and cracked lips without hesitation.

* * *

Iroh was wonderful – really and truly – and Zuko knew that he would have lost his eye without him. He would always be grateful for that.

But it was Mai that made the treatments a little more bearable.

"Focus on me," Mai advised, watching with a pale face as Iroh picked up a small and very sharp knife. Zuko winced and grabbed her hand, gripping onto it tightly, and she held his hand between hers, stroking his fingers once more. "Talk to me. Tell me things. Keep talking."

As Iroh cut the dead skin away from the area around his eye, Zuko managed to blurt out words through the agony of it. Most of it was incoherent, things about turtle-ducks and Azula and his mother and the like, and the whole time his hand gripped hers so hard she lost feeling in her fingers. Tears ran down his unburned cheek and his good eye stayed closed as he ranted, and for the first time, Mai felt a surge of real violence cascade through her, violence towards the man that did this to Zuko – his own father.

When he was done, Iroh gently stroked Zuko's sweat-soaked forehead, trying to calm him down before he bandaged the wound up. Zuko shook from head to toe and didn't open his eye, but he kept talking, delirious with pain, now, and Mai lowered her head, her own eyes filling with silent tears.

* * *

"Mai."

She jerked awake, sitting up quickly, her hands going into her sleeves. "What is it?" she wondered, unable to keep the sleepiness from her voice. "Find anything?"

And then her eyes focused and she realised who it was. "Zuko?" she blinked, bemused. "What are you doing? It's the middle of the night!"

"I…I know," he answered, sounding confused as well. "Can I come in?"

Mai blushed, suddenly aware of her loosened hair and even looser nightgown. "Uh, I guess?"

He did so, creeping slowly into the small chambers. She had tried to make it something of her own in these past few months, but it was still rather stale as far as a room in a ship was concerned. Still, she didn't mind too much – it was hers, and hers alone, and that was what counted.

She pushed the sheets away from her and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the futon, her bare feet meeting cold steel. "What's wrong?" she wondered, for one look to his face revealed that something was wrong.

He sat down beside her without asking, something she found oddly normal. He put his head in his hands, his fingers pressing down hard onto his naked scalp. His bandages were still there, but they were getting smaller, which was nice to see. Carefully, she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and he relaxed.

"I keep thinking it's not going to happen," he said finally.

Even though he didn't elaborate, Mai knew. "You'll find the Avatar, Zuko," she said softly. "You have to."

Zuko shook his head slowly, not looking up. "I know I have to. But I just…think it's not going to happen."

Mai considered. "And if it doesn't?"

He looked up suddenly, his good eye blazing. "If it doesn't, I won't have a home to go back to!" he snarled, jerking away from her touch. "If it doesn't, I'll be banished forever! I'll never get my honour back, never get my place in the family back! I'll just be a joke to him, always!"

Mai tried to bite her tongue, knowing that she was bound to fight a losing battle. But the words came out anyway. "The honour of a man who burns his own son is worth less than the dirt on this ship."

Zuko jerked away from her like she had slapped him, and perhaps she had, with her words. He looked hurt for a moment, his eye going wide and his hands held out in front of him, empty and shaking.

"But…he's my father," he whispered.

Mai's heart wrenched deep in her chest. She reached for him again, and this time he fell into her arms, clinging to her tightly and burying his face into her shoulder. His sobs were soft, and he shook hard, but he didn't surrender to them. She held him close all the same.


	23. Cycle of Coincidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: A prompt from Angelchan 2004, speculating a conversation between the boys if their wives all got pregnant at the same time.
> 
> Warning: Occurs post-series and contains spoilers.

"Ugh," Sokka groaned, throwing himself down onto the nearest chair and burying his face into his arms, refusing to look up, even when Zuko set a mug of tea in front of him.

Aang reached over and patted his arm lightly. His other hand cradled his cheek, his eyes deeply shadowed. "I hear ya, buddy."

Zuko froze, his hand in the air, the mug of tea poised over Aang's head. "You hear what, Aang?" he wondered.

"Suki's pregnant," Sokka muttered, his voice muffled by his arms.

Aang snatched the mug before Zuko dropped it. " _What?_ " he yelped.

"Uh huh," was the reply. "The Long Nights. Never trust them."

Aang blushed deeply, wrapping his hands around his mug and looking down into it. "Uh, yeah," he agreed. "Totally agree with you there."

Zuko sat down, hard. He slapped the tray onto the table and glared at them. "Suki and Katara are _both_ pregnant?"

Sokka's head shot up, his eyes blazing bright. "You got my sister _pregnant_?" he snarled. Aang went pale and held his hands out in front of him, squeaking a little in fear.

"Oh, for—Sokka, are you kidding me?" Zuko rolled his eyes. "We're all adults here. Don't be an idiot."

Sokka lowered his head back into the nest of his arms, muttering something bitter-sounding. Aang put a hand on his chest and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Besides," Zuko said softly, his unburned cheek red. "Uh, the winter was long for us, too."

Sokka's head shot up again, his face a mask of amusement. He threw his hand out and pointed at Zuko. "You…you got Mai….!" And anything he would have said dissolved into a wave of laughter

"Shut up," Zuko answered.

Aang smiled, instantly delighted. "This is amazing!" he declared. "All three of us, fathers at the same time! We get to share this wonderful experience together!"

"Except," Zuko muttered, "Mai won't stop throwing up."

Sokka's laughs died. "Yeah," he agreed. "And Suki…she's so… _pissy_."

Aang blushed. "Uh…"

"Not _literally!_ " Sokka rolled his eyes. "She's angry at everything! And I mean _everything_! I caught her glaring at the statue of Kyoshi – and she loves Kyoshi!"

"You both did this on purpose," Zuko snapped suddenly. "Just to make me miserable, didn't you?"

"How does that work?" Aang tilted his head to one side.

"Mai and I actually planned having our first baby around this time!" Zuko answered. "But you two are ruining it!"

Sokka glared at him. "Hey! Suki and I have been trying for a baby for over a year now! _You're_ the one who's stealing the glory."

"Actually," Aang broke in, his voice calm. "I'm the one that mentioned that Katara and I were trying to have a baby – you know, to continue the line of Air Nomads? Sort of important to keep my culture alive and all of that. So, really, you're the two glory-hogs, here."

Sokka and Zuko glared at him, and he merely smiled softly. "But then, uh, yay babies?"

"Well…" Zuko blushed again, smiling faintly. "Actually, yeah. I'm really excited. I can't wait. I really hope the baby looks like Mai."

Sokka snorted. "Why, because you think you're hideous or something?"

Zuko glared. "No, because she was a really adorable girl."

"I _know_ that Suki's and my baby is going to be sugar on legs," Sokka replied with a lazy grin. "With my good looks and Suki's stellar hotness? Aw, yeah."

"Okay, but what are we going to do about this _now_?" Aang wondered. "Katara is so…furious and such."

Zuko sipped his tea calmly, although it was actually a bluff. He didn't want to mention that Mai had actually thrown her knives and shuriken at him when she found out she was pregnant for sure – and that it wasn't a happy gesture.

"No kidding," Sokka answered him. "That last letter she wrote me? Seriously uncalled for. I am _not_ selfish!"

"Sokka, she was talking about how you won't stay in the South Pole for longer than a week before vanishing back to Kyoshi," Zuko broke in. "And your explanation every time is 'I can't get lai—'"

"Hey!" Sokka snapped, cutting him off.

Aang giggled into his mug of tea, choosing wisely not to add anything to this. Especially since his thoughts were that it was _that_ that got Sokka into this situation to begin with.


	24. Infinate Dweebery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Occurs post-series and contains spoilers.

Mai sipped her tea calmly, her eyes fixed on the pai sho board before her. It was a casual game, one that had already taken about an hour to get halfway through, but neither she nor Katara minded, their attention spent mostly on talking to each other.

"So," Mai said now, a smile touching her lips as she met the younger girl's gaze. "Someone told me something about some kind of ceremony coming up?"

She had to speak loudly, over the cacophony of what was going on not too far away from their table.

Katara flushed, her eyes flaring. She glared down at her tea. "Aang has such a big mouth that I could kill him sometimes," she muttered.

Mai smirked. "That could negate the whole point of having said ceremony, right?"

A scream, loud and high-pitched, followed by a flurry of swearing. This was followed by, "Augh, my ears! My ears! How can you ruin my delicate monk ears?"

Both Mai and Katara ignored all of this. "How much do you know?" Katara murmured, looking back up at her shyly.

Mai waited until the blast of firebending faded. "Pretty much all of it. Aang wants to marry at the Southern Air Temple, he wants vegetarian meals, and he wants every single male he knows to serve as his grooms."

Katara made a face. "Yeah, I can't seem to get him to shorten the list."

"Zuko, you're doing it wrong."

"No, _you're_ the one doing it wrong! I've been firebending longer than you've been alive!"

"I've been alive _a hundred and sixteen years_."

"Argh!" Another blast of fire, followed by chuckling and the sound of an airscooter being summoned.

"Personally," Mai said now, reaching forward and moving her Lily tile across the board. "I don't think you should marry him at all. Look what happened when I married Zuko; he became dorkier by at _least_ double."

"You're scaring the turtle-ducks! Don't scare the turtle-ducks!" Zuko shrieked.

"Yes, because your swearing makes them _happy_!"

"Are we sparring, Avatar, or _fighting for real?_ "

Katara sipped her own tea, unable to swallow the giggle that leapt from her throat. "Something tells me it's worth it."


	25. Three For One (Genderbent AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: More genderbending Maiko, this time with both of them bent. Floranna wanted something silly post-series, and I was happy to oblige. =D

Zura was smiling widely. Mao sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes. Usually when she did that, it meant that there was something about to happen, and it was something he wouldn't like.

He loved Zura - that was a given. Nothing would change that, ever. Azul couldn't change that, nor could spending time in prison change that. Nothing would ever break his love for her...but something in that lopsided grin and the way those golden eyes sparkled unsettled him. A lot.

"So," Zura began, striding over to him and throwing her arms around his neck, nuzzling his cheek with her unburned one. Mao sighed, both from the perkiness of her voice and the gesture alone. "You know how you were saying that the winters get long?"

Mao blinked. "Yes."

"And how sometimes there were few ways to keep a couple like us entertained?"

Mao felt the blood rise to his cheeks and to other places. "Yes," he agreed, remembering the haze of passion that the entire winter ended up as.

"Right," Zura agreed slowly, looking up at him from the corner of her eyes. "So, needless to say that things happen sometimes that can occur as a result of such... _activities_..."

Now Zura was blushing. Mao didn't get it at first, until it suddenly clicked and his eyes widened. " _Oh_ ," he blurted, his mouth suddenly unable to close.

"Uh, yeah," Zura smiled shyly.

"What do we do?" Mao wondered, his eyes still huge. "Are we supposed to do something?" He understood what Zura was saying, really, but at the same time, he wasn't quite sure what it _meant_. His brain wasn't quite there yet.

"Uh," Zura pulled away, blinking. "No. You're supposed to smile and say how happy you are, and I'm supposed to get fat and then end up providing the next heir to my throne."

"You're not fat," Mao said automatically.

Zura wrinkled her nose. "Okay, but I _will_ be." She froze, eyeing Mao suspiciously, before holding up a hand and waving it before his eyes. "Mao. I'm _pregnant_. _Say something_."

"Uh," Mao suddenly got it, and something like shivers coupled with jitters flooded through his body. He smiled, a real smile, unable to keep it from his face, but words just wouldn't come out.

Zura grinned back, cupping his face into her hands. "Ah, _there_ we go," she replied, giving him a kiss.

* * *

Zura's temperament on a normal basis was something of a whirlwind at best. She was quick to anger, loud, and sometimes physical with her rage. When she was sad, she seemed to rage at that, too, and when she was happy, she was exuberantly happy.

So it was safe to say that when she became pregnant, these already intense feelings were _intensified_ to a whole new level.

Mao leaned to the side with his eyes closed, his hands in his sleeves and his patience already gripped at. A rush of wind passed by his cheek as Zura threw something - it was hurtling too fast past him to even see it - and it flew by and smashed into the wall behind him, rendering whatever it had been into thousands of pieces.

" _Do you know what I just found out today?"_

Mao sighed and opened his eyes. "That when you're pregnant, you channel a baby's emotions, too?"

Zura's eyes _blazed_ , and instantly Mao wished he could disappear. Zura was already sensitive about her new...appearance...and since was already rather slight to begin with, getting used to being larger - much larger - than usual was taking an emotional toll.

Still, Mao thought with a faint sight, it wasn't _his_ fault.

 _Oh wait. Maybe it is..._

"Very _funny_ , _MAO,_ " Zura snarled back, pushing herself to her feet slowly and storming up to him in what would have been a funny sort of waddle if she didn't look so damned _murderous_. "So funny! I'm laughing! Except that I'm _not_!" And on that last word, to emphasize this last point, her palms sparked briefly.

Mao was suddenly glad that _he_ was the one who was the small projectiles expert instead of Zura, since he was _positive_ he would have been a pincushion by now otherwise.

"Okay," Mao said, _veeeery sloooowly_. Zura was way too close to him for him to be able to tease her without dying a very burnt death. "What did you find out today, then?"

"There are _three!_ " she shouted, her hands giving out twin bursts of fire at her sides. " _Three!_ "

Mao was already lost. "Three what?" The next words came out before he could control it. "Wishes? Doors? Wise men?"

Zura laughed in reply. It terrified him. It was a hysterical, maniacal and furious laugh. "Three _brats!_ " she answered, holding the same amount of fingers up to his nose.

"Oh," Mao blinked slowly, once again slow on the uptake. Then it clicked, and he felt a sinking feeling. " _Oh_."

"Nice aim you have there!" Zura snarled.

Mao, however, smiled. He smiled for real, which threw Zura - and her rage - off-kilter. "That's...actually really nice."

"Nice? _Nice?_ Zura exploded. "Of course you think it's _nice_ , you don't have to push them out!"

Mao took a risk. He reached out and grabbed Zura's hot hands into his own, holding them tight. She froze, deathly still. "So let me get this straight," he said slowly, looking into her eyes. "You're mad because there are three, right?"

She bared her teeth as a reply, and he nodded. "Right. But _I_ think it's great, because we can have them all at once and we won't have to worry about appeasing the masses ever again with multiple litters. We can have these three and never have to think about it again. Plus, _servants_."

Zura's gaze lowered, but her teeth were still showing. "But...it'll hurt like hell, and...I only wanted _one_."

" _Liar!_

"Two," Zura amended.

Mao reached up and pushed a stray strand of hair from Zura's forehead back into her phoenix tail. She looked up. "I'll be there, you idiot," he chided mildly. "Stop being such a dramaqueen. We'll be fine."

Zura scowled from the name, but Mao merely smiled back. He knew he was right.


	26. Fly Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: Occurs post-series and contains spoilers. For The Flowergirl, who always requests Tokka from me for some reason o.O;.

Toph was quite content keeping her feet on the ground, thank you very much. She was an earthbender, after all - it was in her blood. It was what she was _born_ to do - be stuck to the ground as its own personal walking and talking extension.

But Sokka wouldn't _leave her the hell alone_. "Come on, Toph!" he protested. "It's just one trip - just one - and I promise you will love it. Trust me!"

"No," Toph answered, her arms crossed. "Trusting you is like trusting a mole-viper. Forget it." She turned to walk back towards where she knew Teo was, intent on whining to him that Sokka wouldn't shut up, but Sokka reached out and grabbed her shoulder, dragging her back.

"Come _one_!" he said again, his voice getting an edge of a _whine_ to it. "One trip. Come ooooon..."

 _And he just wouldn't shut up!_. "Fine!" she shouted, slapping his hand away. "I hate you! One trip, then shut the hell up!"

" _Yes, alright!_ " Sokka threw his arms around her and kissed her cheek, forcing a faint grumble from her even as her cheeks went warm. He grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the edge of the runway, and despite herself, Toph felt a tickle of fear go through her - without some kind of rock or metal to stand on, she got nervous.

But Sokka was gentle with her. He carefully led her onto whatever it was...and once her feet touched its floor, she sighed in relief - it was metal. "Haha, I knew you would like that," Sokka said softly, and she heard the smile in his voice.

"Alright, Gizmo Guy, you have my attention," she responded, aiming a careful punch to his left shoulder and receiving a squawk in reply. "Show me what you got."

It took a moment - Sokka had to feed the fire and get a decent amount of hot air fed into the balloon - but once it lifted from the ground and drifted slowly up into the air, Toph felt a small rush of cold air and heard the gentle song of rushing wind and went quiet.

It was... _nice_ , she realised. She reached out and grabbed onto Sokka's arm, sliding her own arms around it tight and dragging herself closer to his warmth, a small smile lighting her face. He chuckled softly, a hand going to her hair and messing it up affectionately, and she made a face and growled but stayed close. She closed her eyes and just _breathed_ , listening to the wind and Sokka's heartbeat, feeling his warmth and the cool caresses of rushing air past them...and she had to admit that this was probably one of the coolest things that he had ever done for her.

"Thanks," she muttered into his shoulder.

Sokka poked her nose in reply, and she squeaked.


	27. Across the Threshold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Occurs post-series and contains spoilers.

"Aang, this is ridiculous."

"You may _call_ it ridiculous, but it's not! It's _tradition_!"

He staggered, tripping over his feet a little, and Katara's arms tightened around his neck in desperation, positive she was going to spill from his arms in a very painful way. "Is 'tradition' another word for 'stupid'?"

Aang stared at her, looking unamused. He finally regained his balance and stood in front of the doorway to their bedroom. "No," he answered slowly. "Is 'ridiculous' another way to say 'what a great idea, Aang!'?"

Katara rolled her eyes, especially when Aang teetered again on his feet and had to grab onto her tighter to keep her in his arms. "There is no law that states that you have to carry me across the _entire house_."

"My law does," Aang sniffed. "Can you, uh, get the door?"

Katara rolled her eyes again and leaned out, reaching towards the handle to pull the door open and to the side. However, doing so meant that most of her weight was focused forward, and Aang ended up losing his balance _again_ as a result. With a curse, another stumble, and finally a crash through the now open door, the two puddled onto the floor in a heap of limbs and breathlessness.

There was a silence, one that Katara spent just _staring_ at Aang in annoyance. He smiled and shrugged, tugging her closer. "Hey, I got you across the threshold. It counts."


	28. Name Game (Genderbent AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's note: Written for Floranna, it's a sequel to Three For One, lol.
> 
> Warning: Occurs post-series and contains spoilers...sort of.

Mao made a face. It was one that he found himself making lately, especially when it came to something like this. "Okay, uh, Zura, you know I love you, right?"

Zura's expression was sharp. She stared at him, her arms full of three soft and wrapped and yet so, so tiny forms, and she looked at him like a lioness-bear looks at a threat. "You better," she replied.

"Right," he replied carefully. "But...your names...aren't so good."

Her eyes flashed. "What's wrong with the names I picked?"

"Uh..." _How do I put this delicately?_ "They're...boring."

Zura's eyes flared, and he winced. _That wasn't how to put it._ "I don't think I understood you," she snapped, turning her head towards him. Her voice was somewhat hoarse, and her hair was messy and in her eyes, but she still looked just as fierce and angry as she would have if she hadn't just spent a day and a half in labour. "You see, the names I've chosen are _perfect_. We had two boys and one girl. What's the problem?"

Mao shifted a little, his hands vanishing into his sleeves. "They're just so... _predictable_."

Zura sniffed, turning to look down at the named in question. One of the boys was deep in slumber, and the girl was drifting after him. The one boy who was awake seemed to watch this exchange with sleepy but interested eyes. "Roku is not a boring name. Neither is Ursa or Iroh."

She was using _that tone of voice_ , the one that came with sulking. "No," he agreed, "but they are predictable. And boring."

" _You're_ boring."

Mao sighed. "Probably," he allowed, "but my point is still valid."

"Your face isn't."

He rolled his eyes. "Zura..."

" _Fine_ ," she snapped. "What would _you_ name them?"

He smiled a little. "Well, I'd name one of the boys Li."

She stared at him. "Li," she echoed flatly. "And you said my choices were boring?"

"Yes, and here's why; those names are boring because they've been used throughout history already. But there hasn't been a Li in the royal family for centuries. It's new."

"You're an idiot."

"Oh, come on!" Mao protested.

"No."

Mao glared, crossing his arms over his chest. Zura sniffed at him. They stared at each other in a long stalemate, before Zura seemed to sag a little. She muttered, "Fine. But Ursa and Roku remain."

"What? No! Those are the worst! You should wait longer before you use those names!" Mao thought for a moment. "How about Lin and Chan?"

"I hate you, get out."

And so it went on.


	29. Write To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: Occurs post-series and may contain slight spoilers.

Sokka had terrible writing.

Suki never realised how important writing was until she accepted that, for a while, her relationship with Sokka was dependant on it. She never really cared about things as simple as how characters were formed on a paper and whether the ink was dry before the paper was rolled up and whether or not the characters were placed in lines instead of _littered all over the place with no reason for it_.

But...Sokka was a _terrible writer!_

It didn't seem very fair to her, really. After all, she made painstaking effort when it came to composing letters to him. She spoke of how weird it was to be back on the Island, how she was more or less now a celebrated hero (despite her failure against Azula), how lonely it was without a group of people surrounding her day and night, how she looked forward to seeing him and wished it could be for longer...

She usually made sure her letters were written perfectly, in flowing and legible characters or the neatest calligraphy. She put her heart and her emotions into every single stroke of the brush and made sure that Sokka knew how much he meant to her, even when they were apart.

And she was always appalled when she got his answers.

"SUKI, GRANPAKKU IS SUCH A DOWNER. HE WILL NOT, _WILL NOT_ , LET ME LEAD THE YOUNG WARRIORS INTO A HUNT." (Here was a stick drawing of a particularly ugly Pakku.) "THEY ARE _WARRIORS_!" (Underlined three times.) "WAR IS _AGELESS!_ THEY WON'T LEARN BLADDER CONTROL UNLESS THEY GO ON A HUNT! IT'S HOW _I_ LEARNED!" (And here was a picture of Sokka as a kid, crudely drawn peeing against a brick of ice with a grin on his face.)

That was one of the better ones.

"SUKI! PLEASE MAKE KATARA A KYOSHI WARRIOR SO THAT SHE WILL LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE. I NEVER WANT TO SEE HER AGAIN. MAKE HER CLEAN THE LATRINES!" (Inserted was a picture of Katara in really bad Warrior paint looking sad while Suki held a whip in the air with a grin.) And that was all.

Once, when she was in a bad mood and without proper judgment, she wrote him a nasty letter reflecting this. He wrote back rather ineloquently with: "WELL, _SUKI_ ," (underlined five times) "I DON'T _HAVE_ TO WRITE! I COULD JUST SEND YOU HAWKY'S DAILY PRESENTS!" And that was it. Only to be followed a week later with a regular later describing the many dramas of the South Pole in large characters once more.

So Suki went to a different source: Katara. She wrote her a very confused letter, trying to figure out whether or not Sokka even had feelings for her anymore. Maybe the distance was too much. Maybe what they had was just a wartime fling.

But Katara surprised her. "I think you're reading too much into this. Sokka sends you this daily crap because he knows you care. He sends it to you because he wants to share with you. He loves you like crazy. He brags about your letters, makes a point of spending hours writing you crazy letters. He writes like that to make it seem like he's there with you, and you're here with him."

The next letter she wrote to him was much different.

"SOKKA! Do you know? I am SO SICK of listening to people BITCH to me about how COLD it gets in the winter! Do I control weather? Do I control TIME?"

To which the reply was: "HAHAHA! I LOVE YOU, SUKI." (With a picture of the two of them kissing.)

It would work out.


	30. Pocket of Time (AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: Occurs during Book One and may contain spoilers. Written for Lavanya Six, as a little AU fic.

"This is boring," Mai snapped, glaring with all of her power over Tom-Tom's head and at her father and mother, who were standing nearby with strained expressions on their faces. (Tom-Tom disagreed; he flailed his arms and made Mai almost drop him.)

The fishing port they were docked at was small, and smelly, and it was a necessary evil, since they were set to go to Omashu for her father's new post and they _had_ to cut through... _but still. This is stupid and boring and I want to go home..._

She wasn't always this petulant. She had always assumed she had left this brattiness behind when she turned sixteen. But here it was, in full spirits, raging in her chest like angry waves. She resented being sent here, resented having to deal with foreign people who hated her and her family and her Nation. She would put up with hundreds of hoity-toity meetings with her mother and her empty-headed lady friends if it meant never having to set foot in the Earth Kingdom ever again.

But these were silly thoughts. She was stuck here. That was that.

Their ship was a modest affair, considering. Her father's promotion hadn't quite kicked in yet, but with the advance Firelord Ozai gave them they were still able to get a rather decent boat. A cloud of hired hands went back and forth from it now, loading a nearby caravan that would bring them to Omashu, their new home.

 _Bleck,_ was Mai's recurring thought. She hoisted Tom-Tom up on her hip a little higher, listening to him laugh in her ear. She watched expressionless as her life changed, though inside her heart was raging.

* * *

Zuko's hand was permanently stuck to his face. There was really no other way for it to be.

Iroh stood in front of what looked like a delapitated and barely-standing storefront, his eyes raking over the characters that read, in faded ink, "Peng's Tea - Now Celebrating 100 Years of Excellence!" The storefront was closed at the moment, but the note on the door indicated that they would be open "any damn time that I wake up, okay?" For Iroh, this meant waiting. And if he was waiting, that meant Zuko was waiting.

"Uncle," he tried again. "This stupid shop looks like it's been _unchanged_ for a hundred years! What makes you think the tea will be any good?"

Iroh didn't look at him, but he did answer. "Any shop that can stay open this long has something worth selling. The look of the place should tell you this right away!"

Zuko's hand dropped from his face. "All it tells me is that the owner is lazy!" he snapped.

Iroh now turned to him, looking disappointed in him. "Now, you see, that's just not true. It means that they are so devoted to tea-making that they cannot keep up with demands long enough to fix their store. It is enviable, really."

Zuko rolled his eyes, a bite of frustration cutting into him. "I'm going to the ship," he grated. "When you're done wasting time, hurry back! We still have to track down the Avatar, and we can't waste our time!"

"Yes, yes," Iroh answered. "I will meet you."

Zuko turned on his heel, his palms going hot, sparks jumping up from his fingertips as he stormed away.

"Come back to help me load the ship later!" Iroh suddenly called after him.

Zuko merely growled in reply, quickening his pace to get _as far away as possible._

 _Doesn't he get it? Doesn't he get how important this is? Why is he always wasting time-_

He stopped, his thoughts silenced, his body stilled. His eye had caught a glimpse of something, following the glimpse until it became a picture, and now he was _seeing_ the picture. And he couldn't breathe. Not one breath.

Standing there, holding a baby in her arms and looking like the woman he thought she would grow to be, was Mai.

* * *

Mai's instincts were always good. Her uncle had taught her the importance of this - he, who had to deal with hundreds of people who wanted him dead on a daily basis.

So when she felt a set of eyes on her, she turned in the direction she felt the gaze come from, one hand disappearing under her sleeve, the other tightening her hold on her brother.

And she felt a kick to the gut.

A lopsided gaze met hers, one eye burned into a glare. The hair was gone, all but for a square of long hair pulled into a defiant tail. He wore armour that looked uncomfortable and his hands were clenched into fists, but his face...despite the obvious, most of his face was still the same. And he was just as shocked as she.

 _Zuko..._

For a moment, there was a long pause between them, where they just stared at each other, unable to see or hear anything else around them. Then, ever so subtle, Zuko tilted his head to one side, then turned and vanished into the crowd.

With her heart in her throat, Mai walked to her mother and handed her brother over. Before her mother could protest, Mai answered with, "Nature calls."

She hurried after him, not quite sure what she was doing at all, but knowing that she _had_ to do it.

* * *

Zuko waited for what felt like a decade. He paced. He fretted. He started to assume she wasn't going to follow - _and who would, really, follow someone into a dark alley after not seeing them for years?_ \- and his hand went to his nose and he winced and was about to leave when suddenly...

She was there.

Granted, her hands were hidden in her sleeves, and her eyes were narrowed and suspicious, but she was there. _That means something, doesn't it?_

His feet were moving him forward before he realised it. There was no way to explain why, really. He had been clouded in loneliness for three years, with men who resented him and a mission he knew would fail. Seeing her there, a spectre of his past, made him yearn to touch her, to make sure she was real...

Mai's eyes widened a little, but she didn't move away. She just...stood there. As if waiting.

That is, until he reached out. She leaned back a little and pulled her hands free of her sleeves, and Zuko winced, waiting for the bite of knives that he knew were sure to strike him.

What he got instead were cool hands taking his, long fingers closing over his hot ones, and he froze, something warming deep inside of him.

"Zuko," she murmured, her eyes on his. She squeezed his hands, her face carefully blank. Her eyes, however, were wavering and full of the emotion she was afraid to show. "You never said goodbye, you know."

He opened his mouth to say her name, but something wordless and hoarse came out instead, a vocalisation of a repressed emotion that he never got to express. His hands squeezed hers hard, but she didn't wince or pull away. She gave him a tug, a hard one, one that spoke of sparring in the royal gardens and tossing each other in water fountains, and he stumbled, caught by her, her arms viselike around him in a grip that he never wanted loosened.

With his face in her shoulder, he crumpled. His hands clutched at her back, and he fell apart.

* * *

In was strange. It was one of the most bizarre situations that Mai had ever found herself in (the most bizarre by far being the day her mother gave birth and she was invited to _watch_ ), and yet...it felt oddly natural. Like she had been doing this for as long as she could remember.

She leaned close, resting her cheek on the top of his head. Smooth and a little damp with sweat. She stroked his ponytail. A little coarser than she remembered.

Taller, too. Bigger. Still kinda scrawny, but more muscular.

Still Zuko.

 _This feels natural..._

"Sorry," Zuko suddenly grated out, pulling away and turning his back to her faster than she could even blink. Her arms were still open, even. "I just..." His shoulders drooped. "You have no idea how hard it's been..."

Mai lowered her arms slowly. "I don't?" she wondered.

Zuko turned and looked over his shoulder at her. She blinked slowly. A small smile broke onto his lips, and his eyes closed. She walked to him, sliding her arms around him like she used to when they were small, and he leaned back a little, just a little.

"How long do you have until you have to go back?" he suddenly asked, startling her out of her reverie.

"I think maybe a half-hour," she said after a moment. "My parents brought a lot of things."

"Do you think we could...go somewhere?"

She looked at him, peering over his shoulder and into his lopsided gaze. She was already used to it. It was so strange. Her fingers dug a little deeper, her mouth set. Wordlessly, she nodded.

* * *

A half-hour wasn't enough. They could take the whole day and, Zuko knew, it wouldn't be enough. It wouldn't _ever_ be enough.

When they were kids, things came easy. It was simple to declare your feelings with a shove or a hair-pull, simple to want to play with the one you liked for the sake of spending time with them. It was simple to distract yourself with these simple times and simple gestures.

But they weren't kids anymore. That much was obvious just by looking at Mai, by actually taking in that beneath those layers of clothes she had a figure, that the chubbiness around her face was gone, that she no longer walked with unsure steps. She was a woman. It was obvious.

But Zuko didn't feel quite like a man. It was strange. He was sixteen - clearly a man in age - but he still felt lost, like a thirteen-year-old, caught in some kind of limbo that would allow real aging once the Avatar was caught.

They walked in silence, slipping away from crowds of people and closed-in buildings, desperate for some sort of reprieve from the madness of civilization.

When Mai took his hand, he found himself squeezing it without a second thought. When he saw her soft look of surprise and affection, he felt his heart warm up, just a little.

Finally, they came across a clearing, an open space that usually went unnoticed by anyone since it lacked a stall with wares. The ground was a little dusty and only a few tufts of grass poked out from the ground, and the openness made the grey sky obvious, but it was quiet and deserted and Zuko found it was the best they would find.

"Want to just...sit?" He wondered, hating that his voice cracked a little on the question. When she nodded slowly without laughing, they walked to the grassiest patch and sat down, side-by-side. Mai took her hand back and began fussing with one of her sleeves, looking down at the ground.

He opened his mouth to say something - _anything_ \- but she beat him to it. She said his name, and he froze; her tone was serious, far more serious that usual. She looked up at him, and her face was blank. When he nodded, she spoke again.

"Do you...still..." She sighed, making a face, and he felt himself relax a little. She wasn't always too expressive, but when she was, it was comforting. She muttered something he didn't catch, her head going up faster than he could follow.

Her eyes met his, searching them. He swallowed hard, unable to keep himself from searching for hints of disgust there, from he sight of how he looked now...

She frowned. Her eyes narrowed. "You know something?" she said suddenly, her voice hard. "Words are boring."

She lunged for him, her fingers grabbing onto his face in a firm but painless grip. He felt himself being pulled to her, and before he could even breathe she was kissing him. Kissing _him_ , a real kiss, not like the kisses they had stolen from each other on hot summer days amidst a backdrop of gardens and happiness.

His hands reached out. They held onto her, bringing her closer. He kissed her back, unable to quite comprehend doing anything else. He was clumsy and confused, and she was a little tense and stiff, but once they got the feel of it, there was nothing better.

* * *

Zuko was a terrible kisser. But then, so was she, so who was she to judge?

The method and style wasn't what was important, though. What was was that Zuko was kissing her, and that was that. And it wasn't just kissing; there was touching, lots of touching. Lots of awkward, shaky, fumbling touching. Zuko's breath was hot against her lips, his tongue even hotter, a slippery kind of heat, and his fingers were warm and close and so, so wonderful...

Mai had never felt like she had a real home. She felt like an outsider at all times under her own roof. She loved her parents because she had to and she did bear some sort of affection for them despite their flaws. But to be at home was something truly alien to her.

But there was something familiar about Zuko, something that made her feel as close to home as possible, even so far away from the Fire Nation. The way he smelled, the way he felt, the way he sounded...everything about him spoke of peacefulness and calmness, even though their circumstance was anything but. He was exiled from his home, on a wild-goose-duck chase; she was forced to live in the Earth Kingdom, amidst people who would love to see her and her family dead.

And yet... _this is okay. This is more than okay. This is really good..._

A pocket of time can last ages. It can also last seconds. It felt like seconds when Zuko pulled away, looking shocked and rushed and confused. "Time," he whispered. "My uncle is probably looking for me." His eyes were shiny, and his face was red.

No amount of schooling was able to keep the disappointment from her face, she knew. She knew it especially when Zuko bit his lip, shutting his eyes for longer than a blink. "This was...this is... _more_ to me...than just..." He growled, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. Words were never, ever one of his strong points.

"I know," she said softly, reaching up and cupping his cheek - the burnt one - with one hand. He froze, a flicker of fear showing, and she rubbed the rough skin slowly, her heart doing a little flip at the feel of it, but not out of revulsion; it was of anger on his behalf.

"Mai, I..." and here he shut his eyes, leaning into her hand.

"I know," she answered, pretty sure she did, hoping she did. She put her other hand on his other cheek, and his eyes opened. She smiled, but her lips quivered, just a bit.

"Come visit me in Omashu one day, okay?" she said calmly, internally marveling at how calm she was able to keep her voice.

He was struggling, she could tell. It was obvious in the way he bit his lips hard, the way he clenched his fists at his knees. But he managed to overcome it, swallowing hard and nodding against her hands. She let go.

When he rose to his feet, his stride was shaky. When he walked away, he looked back more than once.

Mai stayed where she was, on the dirty ground, her hands in her lap. She waved once, when he wasn't looking. When he vanished from sight, she hugged her folded legs to her chest and wept.

* * *

"Nephew! You're late!"

Zuko raised his head towards the sound of the voice with some trepidation. He was sure his sadness would be obvious, especially in front of Iroh - it always was, after all.

But when he went to join his uncle, watching him and his men load several barrels of tea onto the ship, Iroh said nothing to him outside of the ordinary ("I had to haggle some, but the results were magnificent!). If he didn't know any better, he would have thought that his moment with Mai had been some kind of fever-dream, a delusion he gifted himself to keep him sane.

But when he turned towards where her family's ship was docked, and caught distant flashes of muted red and black, he knew it had been real. He kept his eyes on those figures until they faded and the ship left from the dock.

 _"Come visit me in Omashu..."_

He sighed deeply, lowering his head. When Iroh's hand went on his shoulder, he opened them to find a concerned look on his uncle's face. But it wasn't something he was ready to share, not quite yet. Wordlessly, together, they walked onto the ship, back on the water, back towards destiny.

But sometimes, he looked back. Sometimes, his gaze still lingered.


	31. Hands-Off Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: Occurs post-series and contains spoilers for both the series and "The Silk Fan". Originally written on a prompt supplied by the ever-patient Lavanya Six when I whined about wanting to write Sokka/Suki and lacked the ideas to do so.

_"Suki!"_

She had to smile. There were only two people in the whole world who used her name with such explosive force, and only one who had such a high-pitched voice when saying it.

So when dark brown arms were thrown over her shoulders from behind and she was tugged backwards into an enthusiastic embrace, Suki merely laughed and patted the arms in question. She tilted her head to the side to look up at Sokka, who was smiling so hard his eyes were closed. "Hey!" she said calmly.

He responded by making another high-pitched noise and squeezing her tight, rubbing his cheek with hers. Suki had to laugh, both happy to see him and that her paint wouldn't rub off on him.

"I miiiiissed you!" he declared without need, giving her sideways kisses. "I'm sorry I was away for so long! Stupid Granpakku and Katara were taking _forever_ to rebuild the watchtower, and they _kept doing it wrong!_ Masters, my ass!"

Suki pulled herself away from him as he spoke, knowing that if she hadn't, she would have gotten a passionately flung-out arm in the face. "Glad to save you from the tyranny," she teased.

"I know!" he answered seriously. "When Dad gets back he's going to knock their heads together! I hope, anyway. Or I will."

Suki leaned in and kissed his lips as a reply, and he kissed back, hugging her close. When she pulled back for some air, he smiled into her eyes. "So, what's the occasion? You usually don't invite anyone here this close to the Long Nights."

Suki smiled. He knew the ways of the Island so well already, and he hadn't even lived there yet. It was nice; it showed he cared enough to listen to her. "Ty Lee and I were talking, and we came up with an idea."

Sokka blinked, unable to mask a slight flicker of distrust from appearing on his face. "Oh?" he said slowly. "About girly things?"

Suki raised an eyebrow. "If you call honing battle techniques girly, then absolutely."

Sokka clapped his hands together once. "Battle techniques!" he echoed. "I am a fan of long conversations of battle techniques."

She had to smirk at that - of course she knew. It was occasionally his form of pillow-talk. "Well, then this is the perfect day for you," she replied, reaching up and poking his nose with one gloved finger. "How would you like to train the girls in some fighting?"

Sokka's eyes lit up and his smile was huge. For a moment, anyway. Then he frowned, looking suspicious again. "By 'training the girls', does this mean that I have to wear the dress again?"

All she had to do was smile. He groaned, but she dragged him to the dojo anyway, knowing she had him hooked.

* * *

 _"Yay, Suki!"_

There was the second voice, buoyant with glee as the source flung herself into Suki's arms. Ty Lee always gave her a greeting like this, no matter how little time was spent in-between meetings. When she asked Mai about it, Suki was told that "it's just her way of shoving her affection." Suki found she preferred this method over Toph's.

Once Ty Lee was apparently satisfied with the amount of affection given, she turned her sights onto Sokka, giving him a sly grin and then a hug, saying, "Hey there, strong man," in addition. Suki fought the urge to slap her hand to her forehead; Ty Lee _always_ greeted Sokka that way, no matter how many times she told the other girl that it would probably give him a big head.

 _Sometimes I wonder..._

Her thought was cut off when Sokka's voice broke into whining. "Ty Lee, please protect me from Suki and her evil cross-dressing ways," he pleaded. "Please don't let her dress me in a...dress."

Ty Lee pouted a little. "But I was looking forward to seeing you wearing the uniform," she answered, and instantly Suki forgave her for being a flirt - especially if it meant getting Sokka in drag. "And besides, we need you in full uniform; otherwise you can't play with us!"

Sokka's face darkened, his gaze going to Suki's. She merely smiled. "It's true," she agreed.

Sokka sighed and gave up. " _Fine,_ " he growled. Then he tried to move from it. "So what are we doing anyway?"

"Well," Ty Lee said, her hands behind her back and her smile huge. "Suki and the other Warriors loved that I could teach them chi-blocking, as you already know, right? So, we were thinking..." She looked to Suki, allowing her to continue, which was nice - it showed Ty Lee's respect for her rank.

"The Kyoshi Warriors are formidable, but we could always use more skills," Suki said. "Ty Lee is proof of that. So, we were thinking that you could do us the honour of teaching us a little bit of Water Tribe martial arts - namely, boomerang-throwing."

Sokka stared, looking confused. Then, his eyes went huge, and he threw his arms out, delighted. "This is _wonderful!_ " he exclaimed. "I get to teach people my own age for once!" He then lowered his arms and cleared his throat, reaching up only to smooth out his already-immaculate hair. "Well, I mean, of course, I'd be happy to give you lovely ladies some tips of the might warrior ways of the South."

Suki and Ty Lee exchanged a look, their eyes meeting slowly. It was exactly the kind of reaction they had both been expecting. Suki then smiled, reaching out and grabbing Sokka's hand and dragging him towards the back of the dojo. "Great! Let's get you dressed!"

A groan escaped his lips, but he didn't fight it - too much, anyway.

* * *

Sokka submitted to the dressing well enough. Once he was set, Suki called the other girls into the dojo.

There were seven of them now that Ty Lee had joined the ranks. For a while, it looked as if Zayi may not return thanks to the nature of her injury, but despite it she was determined, and eventually she bounced back.

Once they were all lined up, Suki addressed them as she would any other day - without preamble. "Sokka is here to teach us a new skill," she said, holding her hand out to him as he stood beside her. He stopped fussing with one of his sleeves and stood up straight. "With increased traffic on our shores means increased trouble. The more we can keep ahead of the crowds, the better we can serve the Island. Sokka is here to teach us how to fight with boomerangs - long distance projectiles - something we haven't had a chance to learn in detail quite yet."

The girls exchanged interested looks, clearly hooked by the idea that their skills would increase with something that could prove essential. But Suki's eyes were on one girl, who had her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed, and she waited. Sakana never could keep her mouth shut for long.

"Suki," she began, her voice terse. "It's one thing to have Ty Lee here, since she's one of us, now. It's obvious that we can learn from her and study from her. But...Sokka isn't just an _outsider_. He's also a _man_."

Suki fought the urge to roll her eyes by closing them. She felt Sokka sigh beside her a little. Sakana hadn't liked Sokka at first, and that dislike grew to distrust along the way, especially when Suki told her Warriors of her own freedom, when Sokka and Zuko fought side-by-side to get her free.

 _Which is rich, considering they all trust Ty lee enough to allow her to join the ranks..._

Now, however, was not the time to pick nits. "Sokka is an honourary member of the Kyoshi Warriors," she said now. "He honours our customs by wearing the uniform, and has trained with us before in the past. He has fought at my side and for our entire country. And he did this all while still being a man. So, that's the end of that."

Her eyes narrowed, and Sakana sighed, looking away. She still resented it, but would accept Suki's decision. She always did, in the end.

"Sokka," Suki turned to him, and he blinked, looking over at her. "Want to begin?"

He blinked again, then swallowed. Very carefully, he turned to the girls, who were staring at him expectantly. He reached to his back and pulled out his boomerang slowly, as if his fingers were wooden like the Mechanist's.

When Sokka held it in his hands, something seemed to click. He smiled, looking down at it, before looking up at his audience. With a proud smile, he held it up and pointed to it with the other hand.

"In the South, the only thing a man may have that saves him from dying a cold death is this tool right here," he began. Suki had to hide a smile; she knew that when it came to speeches, Sokka tried his hardest to copy his father's way of speaking. Anyone who had heard Hakoda speak would hear his voice in his son's.

"It's light, it's durable, and you can place it anywhere flat and it won't hinder your mobility," he continued, showing the warriors that it was no thicker than his own hand and easy to keep strapped to his back, despite the bulk of the armour and uniform. "You can make one from any kind of material, but the best kind is bone from an arctic wolf." He faltered, scratching his cheek a bit. "But you guys don't have that here, so..."

"We could use elephant-koi," Azaki broke in softly, holding up a hand. "They don't splinter like regular fishbone, and some of the sailors reinforce boatframes with the ribcage bones."

Suki hid another smile. That was Azaki, alright - ever the sailor's daughter.

Sokka was relieved. "That's a great idea!" he replied. "Let's start with that!"

Suki smiled for real, now. _This was a good idea,_ she thought, watching as Azaki led Sokka and the other Warriors to the shores to talk to some of the sailors. _Sokka can take part in training, teach us something new...and he can stay close. I won't have to miss him. And he won't feel useless, either._

With these thoughts buoying her steps, she followed the train of Warriors to the shores.

* * *

It was possible to be wrong. It was harder to admit it.

When it came to Sokka, he had his moments of frivolous and ridiculous silliness. It was coupled with stark cynicism and thick sarcasm. He also adored any kind of attention - especially from the opposite sex. That was just who he was, really.

But the part that Suki was counting on when it came to training that day was the part that was laced deep within Sokka, the one that came out only when he was weapons-training or fighting battles or talking about strategy. It was the part that loved the fluidity of swordsmanship, admitted defeat when he knew he could learn more from it, and never once doubted that, with time, success was close by.

And for a while, he didn't disappoint her. He was serious when it came to making the boomerangs, serious about the history and the necessity and the structure that was essential to learning how to throw them.

But then, somehow, he started to remember that he was training with a bunch of women - one of which was Ty Lee, who made it no secret that she thought Sokka was adorable. He loved the attention, loved being teased and love hearing the girls laugh.

That was annoying, but Suki let it go. If it eased the training, she would get through it. And besides, he joked with her, too.

But then she watched as Sokka helped each girl fix her grip on the handle of the boomerang. It was casual enough - just a slight finger-nudge - but it graduated into correcting their stances and how they held their feet and arms, which involved _lots_ of touching, and...

It made her jealous. Which surprised her.

Sokka was nothing short of a professional when it came to training with them. He may lower his voice and tease a little, but when it came to the touching, it was purely business and had no underlying meaning to it.

So why was she standing there, holding her own boomerang between her hands in a crushing grip, unable to keep her teeth from clenching together in her annoyance?

Sokka wasn't making it easy, either, especially with the teasing words and the ability to make all of her girls - even Sakana - giggle. Suki suspected that the ever-humble teacher part of him was slowly changing into the incredibly-pleased-with-himself show-off.

She was going to have to do something about that, and soon. Because she knew if she didn't, she would probably end up throwing her boomerang at his big, inflated head.

* * *

After Suki called a lunch break, she cornered Sokka in a far away corner, out of earshot of the other girls. He was reasonably bemused, especially when she asked, very slowly, "How do find training going?"

But it didn't last. He grinned in that very same way - careless and at the top of his game. " _Great_ ," he admitted, and Suki had to fight the urge to smack him. "The girls really seem to be getting what I'm saying. They learn so fast!"

Suki bit back a caustic reply that she knew was beneath her. "You say that, and yet I don't think you noticed something kind of glaring."

Sokka blinked slowly. "Me? Miss anything?" he grinned, nudging her in the ribs with his elbow. "Not me, right?"

"Yes, you," she answered, her patience snapping. "Sokka, half of the girls keep messing up their grips so that you can show them more... _closely_ how to do it properly!"

He frowned. "Now, wait, I knew Ty Lee was doing that, but the other girls? Really?"

Suki sighed. _Of course he knew that Ty Lee was flirting. Why would he stop something that was so much fun?_ "Yes."

"Even _Mikku_?"

His incredulous tone was a little amusing. After all, Mikku made it known that she though Sokka was a waste of space and made it her project to make him look like a talentless hack any chance she could. But even Suki knew that Mikku was starting to enjoy the slight touches she received from the only male Warrior. "Yes," she admitted. "Even Mikku."

Sokka's ears went bright red, his face a display of shock. "Oops," he said weakly.

"Indeed," she replied, raising an eyebrow. "Are you going to do something about it so that my Warriors don't go throwing boomerangs incorrectly so as to get a touch from you?"

Sokka made a face. "I don't think they mean it that way."

"Probably not, but you have to admit that you're not helping matters."

And he finally sagged, a hand going to his wolftail and tugging - something he did when he was embarrassed at being called out on something foolish. "Right. Probably not."

"So stop groping my Warriors," she suddenly snapped out, regretting it the moment the words left her mouth. It wasn't like her to flat-out make accusations like this, especially since Sokka had done nothing to prove she had anything to worry about.

But his ignorance on the matter was the last straw. And judging by the look on his face, he knew it, too.

"Uh," he said, his voice small and his face worried. "Are you... _jealous_ or something?"

Now _her_ ears were burning, as well as her own face. She glowered at him. "Quit trying to change the subject!" she snapped.

Sokka's face changed into one of surprised delight and he laughed. "You _are_ jealous!"

It was strange, but the sound of his voice seemed to calm her worries. The fact that he was surprised by her (obvious, she realised) jealousy in the matter made her see just how silly it actually was, especially since Sokka, himself found it hilarious.

But her fist found his gut all the same. He still had a lot to learn, after all, about being a teacher.


	32. First Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: Written just for for The Flowergirl. Hope you like it.
> 
> Warning: Contains spoilers and occurs during Book Three to post-series.

The first time they kissed was awkward. It was hurried and confused, a collision of lips and teeth and emotion.

All Aang could think was, _I can't die without her knowing how I feel. I can't die without her knowing that I love her..._

All Katara could think was: _I can't. I can't do this. If he dies, another part of_ me _will die...I just don't know...I can't..._

They never spoke of it until much, much later, but both had known there was no going back.

* * *

The first time they _really_ kissed is when the dust had settled beneath their feet and they could finally breathe without having to gasp for air.

Katara's arms were firm around him, her eyes shining with love and without doubt, and her lips so soft. Aang couldn't help but feel as if the circle that is his life had finally come to a close.

She could tell that Aang was nervous, and so so relieved, but for Katara, there were no words to convey how she felt. Only an action would do. And she hoped it was enough.

* * *

The first time Aang saw Katara naked was several years later, by mistake. They were in the Fire Nation, travelling with Appa and checking up on villages they had gone through in their travels. It was hot and sweaty and a horribly sticky day, and Katara went to bathe...and Aang hadn't realised she meant _naked_.

He stood, frozen in place, his eyes wide and raking over wet brown skin and slight curves. Katara realised she was being watched and moved into a stance, so easily and without pause that it took his breath away.

Then she saw it was him, and she froze as well, her face deepening in a blush. Then, to his surprise, a smile spread along her lips, a coy and teasing gesture.

It was an invitation. Aang was diving into the water fully clothed before he realised it, which made her laugh and laugh.

* * *

The first time they touched each other was in the South Pole, under fur blankets and alone in a small tent pitched by the shore. It was cold, so cold, and Katara mysteriously suggested, with a glint in her eye, that it would be best to share body heat skin-to-skin.

Aang knew a line when he heard it, despite knowing it was logical. But he didn't mind.

When he touched her, Katara couldn't keep her eyes open. His touch was like pure pleasure, even if it was just on her hip or a bare touch on her breast. When his lips followed his fingertips, her entire being felt like she was on fire - a strange feeling for a waterbender, but a welcomed one, all the same.

* * *

The first time they made love was in the middle of a sparring match. Their adrenaline was high, their blood racing, their bodies slick with the sweat of their efforts, and out of nowhere, they just _collided_ , body to body, mouths together, hands groping and touching and tearing at clothing like there was no time for anything else.

There was no poetry to their moves. No romantic moments or soft-spoken words. Their lovemaking was fierce, it was a battle of sorts, and the words spoken were cries of names or various curses or shouts of joy. There would be no ballads sung of this deflowering, no romantic sonnets written for their physical display.

And yet, when they were both spent, lying on the grassy ground soaking wet in both sweat and water, gasping for breath and still intimately twined together, there was no question that it was perfect - just perfect.


	33. Conflict of Interest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: Written for Lavanya Six exploring the idea of Kanna not being too happy with Sokka's choice for a wife.
> 
> Occurs post-series and contains spoilers.

"And this," Sokka said proudly, holding Suki's gloved hand tighter, his voice wavering with barely-contained excitement, "is Suki, the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors."

Suki felt her cheeks heat up, and not just because the fire in the tent was warm. Kanna's expression didn't change, her eyes blank and her face even blanker. Beside her sat Pakku, who was smiling at Suki and Sokka, giving Suki a slight nod in greeting.

Suki bowed low to Kanna, thrilled that she was finally meeting her, whom Sokka spoke endlessly of and with so much joy and happiness. "I'm honoured to meet you," she admitted honestly.

When she raised her head, she noticed that Kanna's expression didn't change one bit. She blinked, a small spark of worry and confusion lighting up in her gut, but she kept her smile frozen on her face all the same.

Then Kanna uttered the words that Suki would hear echoing in her head for hours following.

Kanna turned to her grandson and, with a flat voice, declared: "She is not good enough for you. Send her back to wherever you found her. She is not worthy to be your wife."

The silence following her words was almost as painful as the words themselves. Suki's smile seemed to melt from her face, and before she could control it, her eyes burned with tears. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop them, though, and was able to keep them at bay.

Pakku and Sokka stared at each other in surprise. Then Sokka turned to Kanna. "Wait... _what?_ "

Kanna merely looked away, not adding anything else to this.

"Kanna, my dear," Pakku began softly, holding a hand to her, but she raised her head and fired a fierce glare at him, and he was silent.

Sokka was not. "How can you say such a thing to me? To Suki?" he snapped, dropping Suki's hand in his flurry, clenching both hands into hard fists. "How can you say such a horrible thing without even talking to her?"

"If you want to marry her, you will not have my permission," Kanna answered. "And without my permission you cannot tie the cord. It's done. Send her on her way and be done with it."

Suki felt a flash of fury hit her then. She struggled to control it, struggled to keep it at bay, but she couldn't. She opened her mouth to protest, to say something she would probably regret, when a thought floated up unbidden and silenced her.

 _You can't do this. You can't make him choose. This is his grandmother, a woman who has been in his life forever. You can't make things worse by fighting._

 _It really is done._

Suki shut her eyes, lowered her head, and clenched her teeth together. Wordlessly, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the tent, not once looking back. She heard Sokka shout, but didn't hear what he said.

* * *

"Why?" Sokka snapped out, his voice braking in his rage. "Why did you do that, Gran Gran? Why did you say that to her?" He held out his hands, trying to convey just how _serious_ he was, for once. "You _know_ I love her, and you know she loves me! Why won't you just be _happy_ for us?"

Kanna's eyes sparked, for once showing the anger she so obviously felt. "You asked me for my approval, and I can't give it. No matter how loud you shout, Sokka, nothing will change that."

"But _why_?" Sokka demanded, feeling his heart ache deep inside. It was bad enough to hear her say it, but to see Suki accept it, too? It was almost too much.

Pakku, however, held up a hand. "I think right now we should take a break, allow ourselves to calm down. Sokka, will you excuse your grandmother and I?"

Sokka opened his mouth to protest. Really, he wanted to protest - he wanted to scream himself sick on behalf of the woman he loved, despite loving Kanna as well - but the grave expression Pakku wore stopped him. He glowered, ground his teeth together, and snapped out, " _Fine_ ," before turning and following Suki out of the tent.

He had to find her.

* * *

Sokka found her sitting on the edge of the water, just outside of the shadow of the watchtower he had rebuilt a few weeks ago. She sat cross-legged, her gloved hands held limp and empty in her lap, her eyes fixed on the water before her. She looked small in the parka she had borrowed from him, smaller still in comparison to the yawning mass of water she sat in front of.

Sokka walked towards her slowly, his footsteps light and his heart aching. Suki didn't move, although he was sure she heard him coming. He climbed up the snowbank and sat down beside her, looking at her once before looking towards the water. Her face was eerily calm, her eyes blank and dark.

Then, wordlessly, she leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. Sokka slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and her arms went around his waist, her face burrowing into his shoulder.

"It'll be okay," he said softly, his other hand going to her hair and stroking slowly. "We can still get married. Who cares what she thinks?"

It was a lie, and Sokka knew she knew it.

* * *

Without Sokka knowing, she went back to Kanna's tent when she was sure that the older woman was alone. It was a few hours later, and Pakku was teaching a lesson by the waterside and Sokka himself was offering some of the younger men (and even some of the women) some warrior training. It would probably be Suki's only chance, so she took it.

She entered the tent without calling out first, just pushing aside the flap and walking in without any hesitation. Her old anger was coming back, but her resolve was strong enough and kept it buried.

Kanna sat before a wooden frame, carefully pulling cords of supple leather through it. She looked up, her face surprised, before it darkened and lowered again. "I thought I had already given my answer," she said. "Why are you not on one of the boats and on your way?"

"Because I like to know _why_ I'm being kicked out beforehand," Suki answered, marveling internally and how she was able to keep her voice steady, despite the growing anger she felt.

Kanna seemed to ignore her, continuing her slow weaving. Her jawline, however, tightened just a bit, so Suki knew that it was a ruse. Instead of rising to it, Suki merely crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.

After what felt like an hour, Kanna finally said, softly, "Who are you fooling, girl?"

Suki blinked, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, who do you think you're fooling?" Kanna answered, not bothering to look up. Her hands stopped their work, however. "What could you possibly want from a small people such as us?"

Suki stared, her mouth suddenly dry. "I don't understand you," she admitted.

"Am I speaking in tongues?" Kanna answered back, her voice harder. "You come from the Earth Kingdom - that is what Sokka tells me - and therefore I know that in comparison, this place is a tiny and remote hole."

Suki opened her mouth to protest - _That's not how I feel at all!_ \- but Kanna cut her off. "Your protests mean nothing," she said harshly. "You would be bored in months, finding the routine and idleness of this place below you. You are not suitable to be Sokka's wife. Accept it."

Kanna lowered her head, her attention back on her project. Suki stood there, struck dumb by the words, her heart racing so hard and loudly that she was sure Kanna could hear it.

But it was only for a moment. Surprising even herself, Suki felt something inside of her _snap_ , and without control, she snapped with it.

"So, you think I'm, what, some kind of snob?" she snapped out, her voice like acid on wood. "You think that if I have to live a quiet, slow-paced life, I'll get bored and end up leaving? You think that I _like_ having to fight all the time? You think that I _like_ having to fight for my life?"

Kanna looked up again, surprised. She looked even moreso when Suki went on.

"I'm not a stranger to hard work, you know," she continued. "I am well aware that like in the south is much harder than life on Kyoshi Island. I know there are greater dangers when it comes to survival. I'm a Kyoshi Warrior, and that kind of thing is in my blood, so _clearly_ you can't mean that." The sarcasm coated her words without much thought, but she didn't stop. "I said I was tired of fighting for my life, and I mean that, but not in the way you think. I'm not lazy. I'm not snobby. I don't need a ton of adventure to keep me happy. Adventure is nice, but so is relaxation. I know how to hunt already, and I know how to take care of children. So I _don't understand why you reject me_."

Out of breath, Suki at last found no more words. She could feel herself shaking, feel the heat of rage coursing through her body, but she didn't tear her gaze away from Kanna's, despite how furious the other woman looked.

"I reject you," Kanna said finally, her words coming out slowly, "because I know what it's like to want more."

Suki blinked, surprised by how soft Kanna's voice had become.

"I know what it's like to suddenly realise that everything around you is not what you want, and that everything you wanted has slipped from your grasp without you knowing it," she went on, her eyes boring into Suki's. "I also know that once you realise that, there is no going back. Once you leave it, you end up hurting many people...sometimes without repair."

"You think I...would do that to Sokka?" Suki managed to get out.

"I don't want you to break his heart," Kanna answered. "Because I know just how hard a heart can break in such a situation."

Suki was speechless. She could _never_ imagine doing such a thing to Sokka. It hurt too much to even think about.

But then she saw the look in Kanna's eyes, and she realised how Kanna knew: Kanna herself had broken the heart of someone she loved.

Without really knowing why, Suki walked a few paces, then knelt before Kanna, her hands on her knees. She stared right into Kanna's deeply-lined eyes, her heart racing.

"Sokka is what I want," she said sternly, hoping to convey how serious she was in those few words. "I don't want more than Sokka because Sokka is all I want. I don't want more without him because without him, there is nothing more. Please, you have to believe me." And to her horror her eyes filled and her words caught in her throat, but she pushed herself on. "Sokka loves you so much, he won't marry me if you say no. He respects you so much, and I see why. Your reasons are the right ones but they're not in the right situation. _Please_. I'm begging you. Please don't do this."

And she lowered her head, almost to the ground, trying to prove to her in gestures if the words failed. She didn't move, didn't raise it, even as the tears slipped from her nose and onto the carpets and rugs beneath her.

A long pause stretched between them.

Then, even so lightly, Kanna reached out and placed her hand on top of Suki's head. When she looked up slightly, Kanna's own eyes were full. She could see it there, right in that alone: Kanna's yearning for the past, coupled with shame and regret.


	34. Natural Appreciation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: Art + Omoni equals fluffy Maiko fic. Inspired by the art of Allgreycats on Deviantart, specifically the piece entitled "Maiko Reclining". Damn you people and your pretty art!
> 
> Warning: Takes place post-series and contains spoilers.

The Earth Kingdom had lots to offer a stressed-out and tired Firelord. Zuko discovered this early. It didn't hurt that Iroh really had reopened his teashop and was firmly rooted in Ba Sing Se, which gave Zuko plenty of excuses to visit.

Most of the time, he found refuge within the walls of the shop, willing to submit to Iroh's commands and be a tea-server for the day. It reminded him of harder times and kept him humble. It was also, in an odd way, kind of fun.

The rest of the time, like now, he liked to spent in the quiet fields outside of the inner city, where grass and plains stretched out for ages and it seemed as if there was no one else in the world but him. It was very rarely that he was disturbed, and he liked that. He liked to just lie down on the bed of cool grass and just lose himself in the sensations - the cool air, the smell of fresh grass, the look of fluffy clouds crawling through the skies... it was like poetry.

He sighed deeply, his fingers lazily threading through strands of grass. Here, in this moment, he could forget the stresses of the world and pretend he was the only person in the whole world.

Well, for a moment. The sound of feet walking through the grass woke him from his reverie, feeling a stab of irritation at being disturbed... for a moment, anyway, until he saw who it was. _Speaking of poetry..._

Mai stood over him, her face carefully blank. Her hair - loose and in her face - hung down like an inky curtain. "Why are you being lazy in the middle of nowhere?" she wondered, blinking slowly.

He smiled, patting the grass beside him in reply. She rolled her eyes, but complied, lying so that their heads were close but she was stretched out in the opposite direction, giving a comical view of her upside-down face. She folded her arms behind her head and turned her face to him, and he had to smile wider at the expression on her face; she looked bored and perplexed.

He then realised he hadn't answered her question yet. "It's comfortable," he answered honestly. "It's nice and cool, and it makes me think of nothing."

Mai uttered a small laugh. "You _always_ think of nothing. How is being here any different?"

Zuko made a face at her, and she laughed again. He loved that sound, loved hearing her give that kind of emotion to just him. Without being able to resist it, he reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. Her expression softened, and her lips turned up in amusement and affection. "Hi," she said softly.

"Hey," he replied, giving her cheek a gentle rub with his thumb.

After that, she stayed silent, staring at him for a while, her sharp eyes moving over every inch of his face. Zuko tried not to blush, but he couldn't help it. He didn't look away, determined not to show any other sign of shyness, but the blush made her smile again, so maybe it was worth it.

She then looked up, towards the sky above them. Zuko followed suit, his fingers still working over the soft skin of her face. A long stretch of silence passed between them, one that didn't need to be filled with pointless words or heavy discussion. It was a silence of amicability, a silence of appreciation of both the scenery and the company.

After a long time, Mai said, her voice very soft. "You know, I can see why you come out here all the time. It's nice."

He leaned in close to her then, smiling. He knew she would understand.


	35. The Anti-Drug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: Written for Avatar 500, for the prompt "devour". Contains some (but not explicitly so) adult content and should be read with discretion.
> 
> Warning: Takes place post-series and contains spoilers.

Sometimes, Zuko just wants to quit. He wants to shrug the robes off, fling the ornament from his hair and run away, never looking back, never once thinking of anything else – just of himself, and himself alone.

And then something brings him back. A vision of almost eerie perfection. A tall figure of lean limbs and subtle muscles, of modest curves and little patience. Her eyes are always narrowed and bright. Her hair is always smooth and soft. She always smells clean. She always tastes pure.

Mai. His Mai.

When there is nothing else in this world for Zuko to hold on to, he grabs onto her. He latches onto her, onto her slight form, desperate and needy, yearning and frustrated. He is relentless, he is pushy, and he burns with desire for her. His hands are rough, his mouth hot and biting. His hands grab at clothes and rips them off, his kisses bruise, and his thrusts within her always shake her and force her to gasp and cling to him and close her eyes tight.

And yet, whenever Zuko always thinks he's gone to far, Mai goes and surprises him. She hooks her ankles behind his back and pushes up against his lunges, or sinks her nails into his taut arms and pull him closer. Her eyes blaze and her smile curves upward, as if she's relishing in a private victory, as if she glories in his want of her.

And then she'll turn the tables and make him weak with need. She'll be the one to ride. She'll be the one to command. And all he can do is submit and obey, only to find that giving in is sweeter than anything else in this whole world.

Every single time he thinks he's treating her badly, or maybe even using her for his own personal gain, she surprises him. She makes him think it's _he_ who is being ravished, _he_ who is causing the uncontrollable lust, the inescapable need, the complete loss of control.

And every time he's spent and exhausted, delicately balanced between sleep and awake, he wonders if, all along, it's Mai who has the most stress, and is merely bottling it up until he comes to her - and comes _with_ her.

But he doesn't care. If anything, he's addicted. She always wakes him from that dangerous mood. She always burns his apathy to dust. All she has to do is smile and hold out her arms.


	36. Strange Tactics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Avatar-500, for the prompt "spontaneous". Occurs post-series and contains spoilers. Also is blatantly Azula/Ty Lee.

Azula sat motionless, her face carefully blank. Her hands remained in her lap, folded neatly, and she kept her back straight and still. Her breath, though, went hot, and when she exhaled, she exhaled a puff of steam.

Ty Lee stood calmly, her robe pooled at her feet, her arms at her sides and her head held high. Her face was almost angry, definitely haughty, and held a hint of defiance, as well.

With exception to her slippers, she was completely naked.

"Well?" she said hotly, her face bright red and her eyes brighter still. "What do you think?"

Azula slowly swallowed, her mouth parched. Slowly, she answered: "What are you trying to do?"

"I'm trying to get you to remember the good things," was the terse reply. "I know you used me. I _know_ you did. But when we were together, I'd like to think I was seeing the _real_ you."

Azula felt something painful deep in her breast. Barely above a whisper, she said, "You were." She said with her eyes on the other girl's, and no where else.

"Well then," Ty Lee squared her shoulders and clenched her hands into fists.

"But you betrayed me."

"And _you_ betrayed _me_ ," Ty Lee answered. "We're even."

Azula opened her mouth to demand how that made any sense, but then she realised, really realised, that by turning against Mai - one of their own - in addition to using Ty Lee and demanding absolute loyalty no matter what was, in fact, a betrayal - especially when things got emotional between them.

"So?" Ty Lee's voice was sharp, and Azula looked up again to find the other girl's gaze hard, but also vulnerable. "What are you going to do? Mope in here forever? Or get up and live and burn and deal with it?"

Azula stared at her. Then, wordlessly, she got to her feet, closed the distance, and cupped Ty Lee's face into her hands. Her touch was firm, but it wouldn't bruise - and her kiss was the same.


	37. Luna and Gaia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: I see a lot of fanart of Suki and Yue intertwined somehow. I never have written about the two before, and this little fic jumped on me out of nowhere. I hope it doesn't suck.
> 
> Warning: Occurs ten years post Book One's finale, post-series and contains spoilers.

Once, Suki had a dream.

It was years after the war ended, years after the world settled more or less into a gentle stalemate that sometimes burst into tantrums against the new regime. She had found herself working harder than she ever had been, working as a go-between between Kyoshi and the Water Tribes, and Kyoshi and the Fire Nation. Despite it being tiring and sometimes taxing, Suki had never been happier before in her life.

When she slept, it was with heaviness. She almost blacked out, she was so tired. Even out of the country, in the Fire Nation's blistering heat or the Water Tribes' paralysing cold, slept always found her easily after a day's work. If she ever dreamt, she never remembered.

But one dream lingered.

It started like any other strange dream. Suki was sitting on the head of the statue of Kyoshi, reading a scroll about Zuko's special dance moves that were going to be made into a law. Above her head, Sokka soared in slow circles, riding a paper war balloon with a crude drawing of the Mechanist on it. Kyoshi's statue stood in the middle of a desert, and at the foot of it were Toph and Aang, who were arm-wrestling over who could eat the last bag of fireflakes. Whenever Suki started to speak, the sounds that came from her mouth were the weird chirping of a catbird.

The next time Suki looked up to wave to Sokka and chirp an encouraging song, her eyes instead fell on a streak of bright white. She froze, her eyes fixed on it, watching as it weaved patterns in and out of her vision. Sokka was nowhere to be found, and she realised quite suddenly that she couldn't hear Aang or Toph arguing at her feet anymore, nor could she feel the statue beneath her. It was as if she had blinked and found herself in a completely different place, a place full of darkness and shadows. Suki stood, wearing her prison clothes, feeling just as tired and hungry as she did back in the days she was trapped on the Boiling Rock.

Before her, the smoke-like white light weaved in complex patterns, as if they were trying to form characters, ones that Suki had no hope to understand. The light only broke a small patch of the oozing darkness that seemed to snake around her slipper-clad feet, and she could have sworn that it cast some kind of warmth. Despite these alarming changes, Suki felt no fear. She felt a soothing sort of calm, as if something innate within her could tell that she was safe.

Slowly, the white light stopped its dance, once the black light had covered the previous scenes of weird camaraderie. It hovered a few inches in front of Suki, and she blinked slowly, watching, curious. Finally, it grew upwards, a vertical pillar that sharpened into a figure of a young woman draped in loose clothes made of the brightest shining light. She was younger than Suki was now, maybe around sixteen or seventeen, but the eyes - a light, glowing blue - showed age and wisdom. She was clearly of the Water Tribe, all except for her bright white hair. She hovered a few feet above the ground, and her face wore a serene expression.

Suki no longer felt hungry or tired. She realised she was now wearing the clothes she wore on Kyoshi Island when she was off-duty, the blue tunic and pants familiar and normal. She looked into the woman's eyes and saw nothing but kindness there. The woman smiled. She smiled back.

"Hello," the woman said, her voice sounding far away and close up, layered with many echoes of her own voice and other voices, some of them male.

"Hi," Suki replied softly. She felt an awe that she usually only felt before Kyoshi's statue, when she allowed herself to think of the great woman who gave birth to her country. She knew this woman was special, was important, but she wasn't sure why.

"Do you know who I am?" the woman asked.

"I'm sorry, I don't," Suki admitted. "I feel like I should, but I don't."

The woman laughed, the sound like bells, her eyes closing into crescents in her mirth. "It's okay. _I_ know who _you_ are. I feel like I've known you forever."

"Who are you?"

"I am Yue," the woman replied, still smiling happily. "The Moon Spirit."

Suki felt her insides clench a little. She knew that name. She knew this woman after all. "Yes," she breathed out, "Sokka told me. Well..." She felt her cheeks heat up. "We saw a play, and then I teased him... and then he told me."

Yue nodded slowly. "It's okay. I figured he would someday."

"You were his first love," Suki murmured, feeling a streak of hot shame bite into her. She felt embarrassed, as if she was caught cheating on a friend with the friend's boyfriend, even though it was ridiculous.

Yue looked to the side, her bright blue eyes wavering a bit. "Well, sort of," she admitted in her strange voice. "I really liked him, and I could see us being together, having so much fun together... but I was engaged, and then the Fire Nation..." She trailed off, then added, "Well, you know that part."

Suki nodded, finding it hard to speak.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation," the Moon Spirit went on, meeting Suki's gaze again with a smile. "You do understand that this is no longer just a dream, right?"

Suki had wondered. She wondered if some kind of guilt was finally surfacing into her psyche after so many years, guilt that she had determined to forget and dismiss.

Yue seemed to understand this. She laughed again softly. "You have no reason to feel guilty about me," she said gently. Suki looked up, surprised that Yue had known what she was thinking, before realising that of course she knew; this was Suki's dream. "I know the history between you and Sokka. You don't have to worry about the revenge of a jealous spirit."

Suki's cheeks burned, but she refused to acknowledge it. "So then, why are you here?"

"It's been a decade since I died," Yue said, sounding neither sad nor sorry. "And in that decade, I suddenly realised that I had been watching over Sokka for all of this time without bothering to meet you. Since you are important to Sokka, you are therefore important to me."

Suki blinked slowly, trying to understand this. "But why? Aren't I just the woman who took your place?"

"Suki, I was never meant to be at Sokka's side," Yue said, so softly that it was almost a whisper. "Sokka's place in my life was brief, but it gave me the courage to save my people, not through marriage, but through my own death. He made me see that there was more to life - by facing my death."

'That's so sad," Suki said out loud.

"Is it?" Yue wondered. "I don't think it is. With my death, the moon lives. The world doesn't collapse, and the waterbenders can still bend. I can watch over the world at night, and help those in dire need - even the Avatar, and those I had to leave with my dying. It's a better death than most people get."

Suki said nothing. She couldn't think of what to say.

"And now, tonight, on the night of the anniversary of my death - and rebirth - I have decided to finally meet you face-to-face. It's not to condemn, or even from curiosity."

"Then, why?"

Yue smiled, moving closer. With feather-light hands, hands as warm as the bright sun, she touched Suki's shoulders and smiled wide, her smile sweet and sad. "To thank you."

Suki stared into the bright blue gaze. "Thank me? But, why?"

Yue's eyes wavered, then closed, her smile widening. She lowered her head just a bit. "Because, Suki, you have done what I could not: you have been able to protect Sokka through all of these years, morning, noon and night, and succeeded. You love him. He loves you. He loves _again_. Purely, fully and happily. He sometimes thinks about me, but it's not with the dark pallor that he used to. And it's because of _you_."

Suki shook her head. "I didn't do anything. He does it for himself."

Yue opened her eyes again, crescent-shaped, her smile so wide. "Maybe he buries it by himself, but once you found out, you refused to let him continue to do so."

"How do you know that?" Suki wondered. How did she know that every time Sokka felt sad, she could tell, and would make sure to get him to talk about it - either with sparring (verbal or otherwise), gentle teasing, or straight-forward asking. She always kept it private, and always made sure that Sokka never felt ambushed or attacked. How did Yue know?

But the obvious answer came a second later: because Yue watched over them.

Yue's smile was knowing and wise and she didn't even answer the question. Instead, she said, "I could never have done that with Sokka. For you and him, you are both friends _and_ lovers. I have a feeling that Sokka and I would only be lovers - and intensely at that."

Suki stared at the Moon Spirit, unable to speak. Her mouth felt dry, and her chest was tight.

" _Thank you_ ," Yue said softly, her eyes wide and full, her smile bright. "Thank you _so much_."

Yue slid her arms around Suki, holding her close. Suki closed her eyes and did the same. It was like hugging warm sunlight, hugging a warm emotion.

And then, her eyes opened to the darkness in her tent, her heart racing and her breath fast, coming out in short steaming puffs. She stared up at the highly-peaked ceiling, her eyes adjusting to the late-night gloom of the Southern Water Tribe's winter. Beside her came a slow sigh, hot in the cold air beneath the furs. Warm fingers snaked up her bare abdomen and she shivered, but not from cold.

"Whassit?" Sokka murmured in her ear, his eyes still closed, his loose hair in his face. "Scary dream?"

She smiled, leaning her head close to his and intertwining her fingers with his. "Not scary," she whispered, pushing her nose close to his cheek. He make a squeaking noise from how cold it was, and she giggled.

"Why wake up then?" he wondered.

Suki closed her eyes, sighing deeply. She didn't say anything in reply, and soon, Sokka's snores filled the air with their simple sound, his head still resting close to hers. She listened with a warm heart, her smile lingering on her lips.


	38. The Ones She Left Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Avatar500, for the prompt "soothe". It won first place.
> 
> It takes place post-series and contains spoilers.

It didn't happen too often - Suki had to admit that. But when it did, it usually made her feel helpless, as helpless as she felt when she was trapped in the Boiling Rock. Often, she wondered how often it happened when she wasn't sharing Sokka's bed, those times when he was alone, and woke up scared and confused, and had no one there to comfort him. She didn't like thinking about that.

Usually, it happened when she was sleeping as well. It would wake her, his soft murmuring, his confused and slurred nonsensical words. Sometimes, all it took was a gentle hand to stroke his hair from his forehead to bring him out of distress and back into softer sleep.

Other times, like this night, it took a little more. It also made that helplessness fade away.

She opened her eyes slowly, her heart telling her that this was again one of those times - something her ears confirmed a moment later when she registered the familiar sounds. Half-awake, she leaned over and, with her eyes still closed, she slid her fingers through his loosed hair.

It was then that she heard the sound of the name: "Yue."

Her eyes opened to darkness, taking a moment to adjust to the gloom of her dark room. In the soft light from pre-dawn, she saw his face scrunched up in dreaming, his body twitching. Carefully, with a heart that simply felt much too big to keep in her chest, she pushed up to his side and slid her arms around him, gently kissing his damp cheek.

He inhaled sharply, then exhaled, a slow and shaky noise. His hands reached out and sought her body, pulling her closer. She felt his body relax, his heartbeat still feverish but slowing down against her. She often wondered, in her darkest moments, if he imagined holding her against him, or if he was still trapped in his sad dreams, and he thought he was holding Yue as she faded from his grasp. This night, it was one of those moments.

But then there was another sigh, and his hands held tighter. With a sleepy kiss to her head, he murmured, "thanks."

She raised her head in surprise, but he was back to sleep in moments, faster than she could even think of formulating a reply. Without really any warning, her eyes burned with unshed tears – though why she wept, she wasn't sure – and silently, she burrowed closer to him, shutting her eyes tight.

She decided that night that she would always be there to protect him from that sadness, however best she could. She couldn't change the past for him, but she could ease the pain of it. At least she had that.


	39. Subtle Sneaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer's Note: I recently had a Maiko Prompt Post over on LJ, so be warned - there are a lot of posts coming up that feature the two. This one is for SaraJayeChan.

"Wait-!"

Zuko's shrill cry of shock was cut off when Mai pulled on his arm so hard, he had to gasp a bit. But who was he to argue? This was Mai's house, and she called the shots. He relaxed, and with a secret smile, she pulled him into the room, her eyes flashing with carefully contained excitement. He stumbled in, barely catching himself before she slid the door shut and locked it.

Now that they were somewhat safe, Zuko decided to try again. "Mai, are you crazy?" he demanded. "This is your dad's study! We could get into a lot of trouble for this!"

Mai turned around and rolled her eyes, sighing. "Of course we could. That's what makes it _interesting_." With purpose, she strode past him and went right to the desk, her fingers already outstretched, a small smile gracing her face - one that spoke of impishness. "And besides, Zuko: you're here. My parents wouldn't dream of punishing me in front of you."

Zuko clamped his lips shut, a flurry of protests coming to him, but he swallowed them. Deep down, he knew that she was probably right.

Almost like an expert, Mai started opening the desk's drawers, her bottom lip captured between her teeth in her concentration. He had to admit that it was interesting to see her this way, so focussed and intent on something that didn't involve projectile weapons. And besides, his curiosity was starting to get the better of him. With some nervousness, he walked over to her side.

She briefly looked up, flashing another smile, one that he found made him blush a bit, though he wasn't sure why. "Let's see if we can find some dirt on some of those old windbags," she said, her usually monotone voice barely keeping her excitement in check. Her fingers whipped through stacks upon stacks of papers, her eyes darting over the characters quickly before setting them messily aside upon the desk.

"Here, let me help," he found himself saying without a second thought, and was gifted with yet another impish smile before being given a thick stack of papers. He flipped through them, not quite sure what he was looking for. Most of Mai's father's work involved governing a small faction of the capitol's government, mostly having to do with trade. He seemed to always be waiting for a promotion - something that, for reasons unknown, was never given to him. So it was unsurprising that most of what he read had to do with boring trade contracts with the Earth Kingdom.

With a grumble, Mai flung the last paper from the drawer onto the desk. She looked at him. "Find anything good?"

Zuko blinked, then looked down at the stack. "Uh, cabbages are going up in price," he said lamely.

"Never mind that," she replied, grabbing the stack from his arms and flinging it away without a second glance. Their fingers touched, and Zuko felt another blush coming to his cheeks - noting, with some pleasure, that Mai also went pink and looked down shyly. She smiled, this smile lacking the devious nature of the previous. "Next drawer."

And so it went. Zuko followed her lead, and even found himself having some fun with it, reading through the stacks of documents and laughing a bit with her at some of the contents they found. Soon, they were both sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by papers and red with laughter and amusement. It was the most fun that he had had in a long time.

It was only the last drawer that yielded something of interest - though the news wasn't good.

Mai picked up the roll of very pristine paper, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Zuko knew why - that paper was only used for royal correspondence.

"Do you know what this is?" she wondered, sounding tense. When he shook his head, she ripped it open, not bothering to be careful. She unrolled it, her eyes flying over the characters, widening as she took in each word and syllable.

"That..." she growled, her hands clenching on the paper, wrinkling it. "That horrible man..."

"What is it?" he asked carefully, afraid to find out.

She looked at him directly, her eyes bright, her face pulled into a most uncharacteristic expression of dismay. "It says that, as soon as Omashu is colonised, my father will be governor. It means ... it means we would have to move away and live there! And it's signed. He said yes. It's going to happen."

Zuko's heart fell so quickly into his stomach that he felt sick. He sat there, trying to feel numb, but all he could think of was, _what am I going to do without Mai here?_ Azula was unbearable and Ty Lee was fastened to her side, and Zuko had so much trouble making friends at school already. Without Mai, he would truly be all alone. She was his best friend.

Silence fell between them, sharing a moment of heavy dismay. Then, desperately, Zuko said, "Well, think about it, though - you know how crazy their king is, right? How likely is it?"

Mai's eyes flared, then focussed, as if coming to a conclusion. Apparently it was one she wanted, because she smiled, her whole face transforming with the gesture. "The rumours say that he's _very_ crazy. He apparently ... laughs a lot. Like, think of when Ty Lee laughs too hard and starts that weird snorting noise. Apparently he laughs like that _all the time._ "

The image of some dignified-looking Earth King snorting like Ty Lee made him laugh. "Then they have no chance," he replied. "That's _really_ crazy."

Mai's eyes shone. He always liked that, always like that no matter how much she made her face blank, her emotions always bled through from her eyes. "Yeah," she said, sounding hopeful. "Yeah, you're right." She dropped the scroll to the floor and buried it under a pile of other papers, out of sight and hopefully out of mind. She heaved a big sigh, then stood up, surprising him. She held out her hand to him. "Come on," she said. "There's something I've always wanted to do."

Wordlessly, he took her hand, and she dragged him to his feet - something he always marveled at. She was so small, so slight-looking, and yet she had an iron-strength. Without letting go of his hand, she walked him over to the very immaculate-looking couch that sat propped against the wall. It was a plain thing, upholstered in brown and looking unused. With a daring grin, Mai let go of his hand and threw herself onto it, closing her eyes and stretching out upon it.

"Uh," Zuko murmured, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

"This couch has been here since I was a baby," she answered, her eyes closed, her arms stretched out over her head, "and I have _never_ seen anyone use it, _ever_. My mom would always shoo me away from it." She grinned and wiggled a bit, making Zuko blush again - did he ever stop blushing with her around?

She opened one eye, looking mischievously and really pretty. "Come sit with me!"

He had to laugh. "There's no room with you like that!"

With a mocking pout, she pulled herself up and sat, carefully arranging herself to look demure and proper. "Please sit beside me, Prince Zuko, and tell me of your boring daily affairs," she replied, her tone airy and false.

Zuko swallowed more laughter as he tilted his head up, his nose in the air. With over-exaggerated moves, he sat down beside her, keeping his head up. "My, Lady Mai, you are rather boring today."

Mai waved her hand in front of her face, like it was a fan. "Oh, but surely, Prince Zuko, your jests just as boring."

"It's a boring day."

"Around boring people."

"How delightfully boring!"

Unable to keep it in, Zuko burst into laughter, Mai shortly following. Their laughter was sweet, hard and unrestrained, and they leaned against each other for support, their sides aching and their whole bodies shaking. It probably wasn't even that funny, Zuko thought, tears running down his cheeks. But what made it fun was that it was it was with _her_.

When the last waves of laughter faded, they stayed leaning together, their heads close. Mai's eyes were closed, her cheeks streaked with tears, her smile wide. Zuko stared at her, marveling at how she was even here, how she would spend her time with him and not only stay around, but enjoy it. With a shaky hand, he reached over and took one of hers, his hot fingers closing over her long and cool ones. Her eyes opened and she looked up at him, her face going redder but her smile never fading. She leaned in again, resting her head on his shoulder, and Zuko felt his heart give a dull leap within his chest. Leaning back against the soft couch, he rested his head on top of hers, sighing deeply.

Was there anything better than this? Than sitting squished together, in a comforting embrace, feeling nothing but warm and light and happy, your heart racing with happiness in your chest? And from the looks of it, Mai was just as happy, her hand holding his tight, her smile still upon her lips.

He didn't know when it happened, but at some point, they must have dozed off. He didn't remember when, or how, but he only remembered waking up in shock, when suddenly, a sharp voice snapped out, " _What. Have you done. To your father's office. Young lady?"_

It was probably the only time in his life that he was afraid of Mai's mother, really.


	40. Duty and Doubts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for AvocadoLove, who, while not a big fan of the pairing, is always game when making me think and giving me a good challenge. The premise? Mai was only friends with Zuko because Azula ordered her to be - until suddenly it wasn't so much about following orders.
> 
> Warning: Contains some spoilers for "Zuko Alone" and "The Storm".

"It's simple, really," Azula's voice was calm and rich, her smile wide and almost frustrating. "You keep an eye on my brother. Pretend to like him, get to know him, whatever. I want to know why he's so ..." She made a face. "Well, you know."

Mai knew. She had heard it often enough from her friend, about how Zuko seemed to lack ambition and was content to spend his days at school and his nights being tutored in firebending. Azula had plans for herself, and she didn't understand why, out of everyone, Zuko lacked a similar drive - especially since he was much closer to the throne than she.

It was dull discussion, but Mai put up with it, mostly because there were some things about Azula that she actually liked, and also because she and Ty Lee were best friends and she wanted to stay near her, too. She knew that by following Azula's orders, she would be cementing her place in Azula's little world, which would mean no disruption from routine. As a bonus, it would also shut her parents up, since they had been pressing her to get close to the prince for years.

"Fine," Mai sighed, looking at her nails. "Whatever. I'll spy for you."

"Excellent. Thank you."

After that, it was a simple set up: Mai and Ty Lee would arrive together, under the usual pretence that they were there to visit Azula. Then, after a while, Mai would veer off and search for Zuko. Azula said that he usually hovered around the turtle-duck pond, either alone or with Princess Ursa, or else otherwise he was holed up in the training rooms practising what Azula called his "meager bending". And astonishingly, Azula was right.

Whenever Mai found Zuko with Princess Ursa, she backed off, but any other time that he was alone, he was in either of those two places. The first time she met him alone was in front of the pond.

He looked really small, slight and thin and almost delicate-looking. Clearly the strength of the family went to Azula. Mai wondered if Zuko was weak by birth, or just weak by circumstance, especially since Azula gloried in the fact that she was her father's favourite. With almost mechanical moves, she forced herself to walk over to him.

"Hi," she said when she was close enough.

He started, looking up with surprise, his hands tightening on the chunk of bread in his hands. When he saw it was her, he blinked with wide eyes. His face was thin, too, his eyes looking unnaturally wide on his face, their colour a little darker than his sister's. She almost sighed; really, it looked as if he was waiting for someone to come and beat him up.

"Oh," he said softly, "hello."

She strode over to his side, trying to combat both her innate shyness and the urge to punch him for his obvious fear and paranoia. "I'm Mai, remember? One of your sister's friends," she offered.

"Yeah," he nodded. Suddenly, he offered a small smile. It seemed to change his entire face, she saw with surprise; he looked more relaxed. "You're the quiet one, the one that is always eyeing my dad's sword collection."

She blinked this time, surprised. When had he noticed that? Had he just spend his time watching her, not saying a word? That was kind of creepy.

"Er, yeah," she said uneasily. "I just wanted to say hi."

He nodded, still smiling softly. "Hello."

"Um, well." She was at a loss now, and a little creeped out. "See you around."

He repeated the gesture. "Okay."

Without another word, she turned away, leaving him to his pond. After that, however, it got easier. She would find him alone, sitting in the strangest of places, just being quiet and watchful. She usually just kept it to small talk, keeping the mood light while making sure not to give any of herself away. She wasn't interested, anyway.

On days that he was with his mother, or when he was too busy, she kept with Azula and Ty Lee, watching them do idiotic things and occasionally heckling them in amusement. She didn't really like the rough-and-tumble antics they usually got into, but they were amusing to watch. Plus, seeing Azula get bested every once and a while was always a bonus.

Personally, she didn't understand why Azula wanted her to spy on Zuko. He was sort of boring, hardly saying anything, even when she invited him to speak. He usually just kept to himself, a very private person, it seemed - and yet even then Mai really wondered if there was anything much for him to hide. He seemed rather one-dimensional, really.

But a promise was a promise. She told Azula everything that he said to her, making sure to note anything that seemed strange (which was hardly ever), describing every detail and nuance to Azula's commands.

It was only following the death of the Firelord that things suddenly changed.

* * *

"My grandfather died two nights ago."

Mai's head jerked up in shock. Her first thought was, _Why am I even here? Shouldn't she be mourning?_ It was her second thought, however, that surprised her more: _How does Prince Zuko feel about that?_ She shook her head. What did she care about how he felt? He probably felt blubberingly sad, one of those people who took any kind of death only remotely related to themselves as an excuse to fall apart, for attention.

She looked up at Azula, raising her eyebrows. "So what does that mean?"

Ty Lee interrupted in her usual fashion. "Oh, Azula, I'm so sorry!"

Azula nodded to both of them, as if their reaction were expected. "It also means that my mother went missing, too. No one has seen her since the night before he died."

Ty Lee gasped, and Mai's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs. "Meaning what?" Mai asked.

Azula smiled, a gesture that seemed very inappropriate, given the circumstances. "Meaning, she had something to do with it, don't you think? And now, she's suddenly gone. She's probably dead, too."

Ty Lee looked absolutely miserable. Sudden, unbidden, came a vision of Zuko leaning against his mother, his face alight with joy. _How does he feel about that?_ she wondered again.

As if she had heard the thought, Azula's eyes were suddenly on Mai's. "I want you to find out what my brother knows," she said, her voice thick with command. "He knows something. I want to know what."

Great. Just what she needed: to deal with more histrionics. Weren't Azula's enough? "Fine," she mumbled, getting to her feet and starting her search for the errant prince. She felt Azula's eyes on her back, even after Ty Lee said, "That's _so sad_. Are you alright?"

She didn't have to look far. She found him under the tree in front of the pond, his knees drawn up under his chin. He looked tinier than usual, thinner, as if the news took away part of him. His eyes, rimmed with red, were fixed on the turtle-ducks. Occasionally, the silence was broken by a sniffle. She found him pathetic, the perfect image of overblown bereavement, and she wondered how he could take himself seriously at all.

But then, another thought, very small, came to her mind: _He's so sad. It must have been so hard on him. He loved his mother so much._

She pushed the thought away and called out a greeting. Just like the first time, he jumped in surprised, then looked away, rubbing his eyes hurriedly. She wondered why he bothered, since she had seen the tears anyway, but she said nothing. Instead, she walked over to him and sat next to him.

"Are you okay? I heard the news." She paused. "About your mother. And your grandfather."

He raised his head, meeting her gaze, and she looked back, feeling something funny in her stomach. _Pity,_ she thought. _Of course it's pity._ His eyes, with their tears, were almost as light as Azula's.

"No," he said softly, his voice strained. His face fell, crumpling, as if the words were painful. "I'm _not_ okay. Not at all." And to her dismay, his eyes filled with tears again. He lowered his head, burying his face into his knees, his shoulders shaking. Mai felt at a complete loss for what to do. She had no idea how to comfort anyone in their tears, short of telling them to be quiet and concentrate on looking pretty, like her parents did for her. She wondered if she was even supposed to do anything at all.

Then that small part of her, the one that kept thinking bad thoughts, suddenly gave her an idea. She reached forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, closing her fingers lightly over the trembling. The moment her hand made contact, she was overcome with an urge to stop the tears, to stop the shaking and the pain. Her normal self was blown away by these thoughts - since when did she ever care about things like this? - but the strange self was apparently in control, because before she knew it, she was at his side. She held out her arms, feeling her face fall in sympathy ( _pity, not sympathy, pity!_ ) Zuko looked up, tear-streaked and miserable, before wordlessly leaning into her embrace, his thin arms going around her waist, his face buried into her shoulder.

His tears were practically silent, but they wracked his body. It was like trying to hold a hyper puppy-squirrel still in her arms. All she could do was close her arms around him, occasionally rubbing or patting his back. She tried to keep her mind still, her eyes fixed on some point far away, her ears listening for any kind of words that would interest Azula, but her mind ... her mind, and her heart and throat ... they all hurt. She shut her eyes and suddenly leaned in close, resting her head on his and just holding him as he wept.

This was weird. It was almost as if she was making an effort to stop his tears. _It's because they make you sick,_ she reassured herself. _He's so pathetic. Really. How can he be so different from his sister?_

She wondered when she had gotten so good at lying to herself.

* * *

"He's what?" Mai stared at Azula, her stomach clenching. "He's going to duel?"

Azula rolled her eyes. "Yes. The little idiot couldn't keep his mouth shut in the meeting, and he mouthed off at a senior general. The duel is set for tonight." She then peered at Mai closely. "What, you're not worried, are you? It's just a little duel. Who cares if Zuko gets burned?"

Mai swallowed. Hard. She nodded. "You're right, Princess Azula," she said carefully. "I was just surprised he had the nerve, is all."

It was easier lying to others, when you could lie to yourself with such skill. Like how she told herself that she still only kept around Zuko because she was waiting for some kind of crack in his pathetic veneer, some kind of underlying cleverness carefully masked in his emotional demeanour. She kept at his side because Azula wanted her to, because she was bored and it was a great way to kill time, and it was great making fun of Zuko later with Azula.

Except lately she found herself eager to leave Azula and Ty Lee when she came over, eager to seek out the prince whenever she could. ( _Because I still have to find things out_.) She found herself laughing at his corny jokes ( _to keep him relaxed, to ease his pathetic ego_ ), blushing at his lingering looks ( _because it was embarrassing_ ), wondering what he was thinking about ( _there had to be something more than this, this silly boy with so much love and emotion and eagerness to please_ )...

And that fear, that fear that made her heart speed up? That was, of course, fear that she would never get anything out of Zuko if he lost. It had nothing to do with worry that he would get hurt, fear that he would possibly die, or desire to run away with him to keep him safe.

* * *

It was over. Mai shook from head to foot, her worst fears realised - worse than that, since it was clear that Zuko was now an exile. She stood in front of Azula, who was practically dancing. "...and I can't believe you never came to watch," she was saying gleefully. "Really, it was so pathetic, the way he begged for mercy, the way he wouldn't fight. You would have laughed!"

Hollowly, Mai murmured, "Yeah. Funny."

"What's the matter with you?" Azula's sharp glare startled her. "You're acting like you're sad about this. It's just my stupid brother. Who cares? I'm just disappointed that we never found anything out."

Azula maybe never had, but Mai had. She had found out a lot about Zuko: he was shy; he loved turtle-ducks because they reminded him of his mother; he had a penchant for swords, even though he was a bender; he laughed like it startled him, like it was shocking that he was happy enough to laugh; his hands were hot and soft, his lips softer and warmer, still...

 _Oh, no..._

 _It was never Zuko that was pathetic_ , she realised with paralysing dread. _It was_ me. _it was always me._


	41. Bidden and Forbidden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for LavanyaSix, who challenged me to write Zucest with a Maiko twist. Be warned - it has some adult themes.

The thing was, they both knew it was wrong. Neither prince nor princess deluded themselves on this fact: they were brother and sister, and that was where it should have ended. The Fire Nation was far more progressive than the other nations, but when it came to that taboo, they were as strict as the others.

Except, neither seemed to care about that. Whenever Mai's lips would curve up into a mocking grin at something silly he did, be it messing up a firebending form or something else, Zuko would feel it in his gut as well as his groin. Whenever the two sparred, her bright blue fire mingling with his cooler orange, Mai's tongue out dart out and lick her lips, delighted in how wonderful it felt to be that physical with her other brother. When their skin touched, their limbs colliding, breathless and sweaty and hot from the flames, it was like something heady and intoxicating.

Both knew that they were treading tumultuous waters. Even as children, whenever they wrestled and it got a little too intense, or when Mai kissed her brother in a way that was hardly sisterly, they knew it. But fire runs deep and hot in the blood of royal children. As they grew up, they grew together, discovering more than their own person changes, but changes in each other as well.

Zuko was her best friend, her big brother. He would always tell her she was beautiful, a knock-out, the best firebender in the world. And yet, even Mai knew that underneath those words was a sincerity that no brother would - or should - have for his sister. And yet she cared not. She demanded proof. She demanded examples. She ordered him to show her what it was like to be adored, loved, _wanted_...

And Zuko never refused. No one knew him better than his little sister. She knew his worries, his thoughts, his fears. She also knew his body, his tastes and smells, how to drive him crazy and how to ease his own fraying control.

In the end, it wasn't Zuko's speaking up in a meeting that got him burned and banished. It was the revelation of his and Mai's affair.


	42. Even Grounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is also for LavanyaSix. I've written a lot of genderbent Maiko before - Genderswitched and then yuri - but never yaoi. Well, here it is: the beginning affair of Zuko and Mao.

It was a pretty simple set-up: Ty Lee was to be Azula's best friend, and Mao was to be Zuko's. Simple, right?

Except that it wasn't. The two boys didn't get along at first. Zuko found Mao uncaring and cold, and Mao found Zuko whiny and irritating. They usually sat in silence, waiting the time out until Mao had to go home, thinking how they would rather be with anyone else but the one they were with. Not even small-talk made these visits bearable. They simply had nothing in common.

Or so they thought, until Mao caught Zuko with swords.

He had been sent to find the prince by Azula, who said something offhandedly about Zuko "being by himself and doing something stupid." Mao didn't like the sounds of that, really, but he went, knowing his duty and knowing that his parents would be displeased with him if he didn't even try. They had high hopes for him, after all.

With some trepidation, Mao walked the hallways of the Palace, nervousness making his steps light. While Princess Ursa had given him permission to walk the Palace without worry, Mao still fretted over the freedom. It felt wrong, somehow. Strange. Like he was an impostor - especially since he didn't even like the young prince at all.

But then heard a sound that was always like a song to him: the clanging of metal. Following it without a second thought, Mao found himself in a dimly-lit, wide room, one lacking any furniture save a worn-out couch in the corner, off to the side. Everything else was flat, the wooden floor covered with equally worn carpets, the entire place windowless and lit only by a single candelabra. In the room stood Zuko, panting and sweaty, his chest stripped bare, wearing only loose slacks. Mao hovered in the doorway, keeping quiet, as he watched the prince struggle with two twin swords.

Clearly, the swords were made for someone heavier and stronger than him, as he kept stumbling and struggling against the weight, his missteps occasionally bringing the swords together in an awkward impact. Instead of getting frustrated, however, Zuko merely shut his eyes and raised the swords again, catching his breath and trying again. Sometimes, he would be able to get through half of a self-taught form before something tripped him up. Mao was surprised by the raw talent he saw in the other boy, especially since he knew that Zuko had never had a formal sword lesson in his entire life.

Without a second thought, he asked, "Why are you doing that?"

Zuko started so badly that he dropped the swords, jerking away and turning a surprised face to the source of the voice. Mao stood there, looking bored and calm, as usual. He felt a flash of irritation at being caught doing something that the other boy probably thought was stupid - except for the first time, Mao's eyes were on his, and they showed interest.

Catching his breath, Zuko answered carefully with, "because I want to learn."

He bent down to pick up the swords, noticing Mao slip into the room from the corner of his eye. "Yeah," Mao said, his voice flat. "But why? You're a bender. Why would you need swords?"

Zuko sighed, looking at the candelabra in some exasperation. "Because," he snapped, not wanting to get into it.

"Because why?" Mao's voice was pressing, calm and cool and so annoying in its obvious curiosity. Zuko didn't want to get into it, didn't want to make it obvious that he wasn't strong or a prodigy or a favourite.

Hoping to get rid of Mao, Zuko muttered, "because I stink at firebending, so I need a back-up."

He waited for the scathing reply - the flat mocking, the dry laughter and obvious amusement that Mao was sure to feel about that fact. However, Mao was silent, and when Zuko looked at him, his face was as impassive as ever. "You won't learn anything with swords not made for you," he answered.

Zuko almost dropped them again in surprise. "How did you know-?"

Mao rolled his eyes, the second crack in that careful mask. He walked over and pulled his hands from his sleeves, reaching out towards the swords. Zuko felt a wave of defensiveness, for a fleeting moment wondering if Mao was going to try and steal the blades from him, and he stiffened. Mao, however, merely put his hands over the hilts, where Zuko's own hands did not cover, and said easily, "Your wrists bend when you hold them." He pushed up, and with his added strength, the swords were held straight in the air. "Swords made for you don't do that."

It was so simple, it was almost silly. Zuko, still feeling defensive, asked a little harshly, "what do you know about it, anyway?"

Mao raised an inky eyebrow at him, then let go of the hilts. They instantly felt heavier. Putting his hands back into his sleeves, he said nothing, but when he pulled them out again, his fingers were threaded with sharp knives, arrows, and stilettos. Zuko stared in surprise, looking from the weapons to the boy, feeling a new respect for him that he never would have imagined.

"I'm not a bender," Mao said easily, holding his head up high, his black ponytail, styled at the base of his neck, sliding off of his shoulder with the gesture. "I need a means to fight, too."

Zuko stared at him, and in the past, Mao would have laughed at him for that look. But for some reason, it wasn't so funny this time. Zuko wasn't the only one suddenly smitten with new respect.

"And," he added, tugging his hands back into his sleeves. "You don't stink at bending. You just have a lot to compete with. Your sister is crazy-skilled. Even the Avatar, if he even existed, would have trouble with her."

Zuko's eyes lit up suddenly, and Mao blinked, wondering about that but keeping quiet. In a very soft voice, the prince asked, "can you teach me?"

Mao shrugged. "I can try."

It started out, not quite as a friendship, but certainly a better relationship than it had been. As Mao and Zuko sparred together, their keen sense of success was shared by Zuko's growing strength. Months into it, Zuko's wrists no longer bent when he held up the swords, and even though he was often pinned to the wall or floor by Mao's knives, he took it with grace, merely scowling at his teacher as he was unpinned.

At one point, Mao suddenly brought up a good point. "And what if you have no weapons and no bending? What would you do then?"

Zuko blinked in surprise. "How is that ever going to happen?"

"Wouldn't you rather be prepared?" was the answer.

"Prepared for what? That would never happen!"

Mao rolled his eyes, something that always set Zuko on edge. Before he could snap something scathing, Mao's hands shot out and grabbed Zuko by the neck. His grasp wasn't painful, but it was firm, and the moment was so sudden that when Mao flung him to the ground, he had no chance of stopping it. The two landed in a pile onto the threadbare carpets, both uttering grunts from the not-so-soft landing. Mao instantly pinned Zuko down to the ground, one hand on his neck, the other on his shoulder. Zuko snarled, a warning sound, reaching up to try and pull the hands away. He wasn't quite able to tell if Mao was just joking or if something had snapped - his face was as blank as ever, but the eyes... they _blazed_.

"Get off of me!" Zuko hissed.

"Do something!" Mao hissed back, his face inches from Zuko's, his teeth bared, his ponytail brushing over his shoulder and into Zuko's face. "Fight back! Can't you fight back? What are you going to do, prince? You're seconds from dying!"

Zuko blinked, suddenly confused. He wasn't, at all ... what was Mao talking about?

Mao's hand suddenly pulled back from Zuko's shoulder, slapping the ground beside Zuko's head, making him jump beneath him. "And you're dead!" Mao growled, his face suddenly dark, his eyes burning bright in his obvious anger. "You're _dead_ , Zuko! _You're dead!_ "

He shouted the words, his voice echoing off of the walls, and suddenly the anger bled through onto his face. Zuko stared at the face above him, shocked by how much Mao's face changed with one forceful emotion. Zuko's hands dropped to his sides, surprised, and Mao jerked away, letting go of him and pulling off of him, kneeling next to him and turning his face away.

Mao felt like an idiot. He ground his teeth together, trying to calm down, but he was still angry, _still so angry_ , that Zuko wasn't taking him seriously. Didn't he get anything? That even though he was low on the list of heirs, he could still be in danger, and had to make sure he could protect himself?

The silence was heavy. Then Zuko looked up, catching Mao's gaze, and Mao was instantly held by how soft his eyes looked.

"Sorry," he murmured, his hands still limp at his sides. "I'm just not used to thinking about that kind of thing."

"Then you're stupid," Mao answered harshly. "If I were you, I'd think of nothing else."

Zuko sat up slowly. "But you're also paranoid."

Mao sighed, giving Zuko a tired look. He felt tired. "And why do you think that?"

Zuko smiled suddenly, the gesture disarming Mao in a split second. "Why else would you think about stuff like that?"

"Maybe I just think you're too stupid!" Mao snapped, frustrated that he was that transparent, and even more so since it was obvious to someone like Zuko.

Zuko shook his head slowly. "Yeah," he agreed, still smiling. "Maybe."

Mao leapt to his feet in a second. "Get up," he demanded, one hand in the other sleeve. "Get up and I'll show you just how dangerous things are."

Zuko suddenly laughed. Mao glared at him, glaring at how he was just sitting there, rubbing a hand to his neck, the other propping him up. With a sudden flash of irritation, Mao lashed out with one leg and kicked that arm free. Zuko yelped and stumbled to the floor - only to start laughing again.

"Stop laughing!"

"Can't!" Zuko said between giggles. "You're way too serious. It's hilarious!"

Mao blinked. He was hilarious? Him? That wasn't a word anyone ever used to describe him ...

With a sinking gut, Mao felt his cheeks warm up suddenly. In sudden rage and realisation, he snapped out, "Shut up! I'm _not_ funny, _you're_ stupid, and if you die, I'll laugh and laugh!"

Zuko covered his face and burst into a fresh howl of laughter at this. It was the start of something deep, and fun, and lasting.


	43. Wrong Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for Tsukiryuu, who wanted Lu Ten to give Zuko some girl-advice - only he was thinking of the wrong girl.

"Um ... Cousin Lu Ten, can I talk to you for a second?" Zuko hated the fact that his voice wavered a bit, but it was hard not to be a little nervous around his older cousin - he was, after all, already a celebrated soldier, even at his young age.

Lu Ten smiled and set down the scroll he was reading. His office, located deep within Iroh's wing of the Palace, was scattered with papers and empty ink bottles, a chaos that belied Lu Ten's usual immaculate appearance. Zuko stood in the doorway, his hand still outstretched in his knocking. The smile instantly eased his nervousness, and he walked in slowly. "What can I do for you, Zuko?" his cousin asked.

"Well ..." Zuko shifted from foot to foot, looking down at the ground, his gaze fixing on an ink bottle that was still a little full and spilling a bit on the floor. "There's ... kind of ... a girl I like."

Lu Ten's eyebrows went up in surprise. He mentally calculated Zuko's age, and realised with shock that his little tiny cousin was nearing twelve! It was amazing how quickly time passed.

He thought about it, and realised that both of his cousins tended to hang out with the same two girls: a tall, shy and older girl named Mai, and a small, hyper and enthusiastic girl named Ty Lee. He recalled a memory of Ty Lee spending an entire summer following Zuko around, and he nodded slowly in understanding.

"I think I know who you mean," he said slowly. Zuko looked up in surprise. "Go on."

"Well, I want her to notice me, you know?" Zuko murmured, his cheeks going pink. Lu Ten blinked slowly in some confusion, but Zuko didn't quite understand it. "I want her to know I like her more than just a friend, more than just Azula's friend, you know?"

"Oh!" Lu Ten nodded again. Now he understood. "Okay. Well, why don't you try getting fitter? Doing tumbles and aerobatics and stuff? In front of her, so she knows you've been practising to get better, to share with her. That would be a good start."

Zuko's eyebrows furrowed. "You think that'll work?"

Lu Ten fought the urge to laugh. Didn't Zuko get how Ty Lee practically adored him already? Showing her that he liked the same kind of games she did would seal the deal for sure. "If it doesn't work, I'll be very surprised."

Zuko smiled shyly. "Thank you, Cousin Lu Ten."

"Anytime!"

It was for this reason that Zuko spent an entire afternoon in front of a confused Mai, showing her with urgency how he had improved on his gymnastics. Needless to say, it didn't exactly work the way either cousin had planned - especially when Zuko fell over and into the turtle-duck pond, splashing his audience and scattering the poor turtle-ducks everywhere.


	44. Busted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for Tsukiryuu, who wanted an AU that has Mai a little too savvy when it comes to Zuko for Zuko's taste.
> 
> Contains spoilers for The Day of Black Sun, Parts One and Two

Zuko had it all planned out, in his point of view, perfectly. Now that he had escaped his father's wrath, the only thing to do would be to find Iroh, beg his forgiveness, and then run to the loosely-guarded yard, where they kept the hot-air balloons, and swipe one before the guards could get wise about it.

But even that had fallen through, so now he wondered just how badly his luck was going to continue to spiral downward. When he ran into the warehouse, therefore, he was shocked to see it deserted. He was even more shocked when he saw that one of the balloons had been left not only inflated, but abandoned.

He darted over, wondering if this was the spirits' subtle way of apologising for the recent bad luck. Already, his heart was racing with the anticipation of what he would do or say once he caught up with the Avatar; would he be accepted? What would he do then?

His thoughts short-circuited when he jumped over the lip of the balloon's basket and was greeted with a sour voice saying,

"Going somewhere?"

Zuko yelped and jumped back before even registering who was seated there. "M-Mai?" he spluttered, peering over the basket again, shaking from both adrenaline and barely-restrained hope.

She was sitting in front of the furnace, her arms crossed and her face dark. Her face was the most shocking part, for she didn't bother to hide anything. She just... _glared_ , her eyes blazing, her lips pressed so tightly together they almost vanished.

"Mai, what are you _doing_ here?" he demanded, jumping up and standing in front of her, barely inches away from her.

"Go back to the hideouts! The fight is still going on!"

"And what about you?" she snapped back, standing up and getting into his face. He swallowed hard, his heartbeat suddenly speeding up. It always did whenever she was this close, but this time.. this time, it was for different reasons. "Are _you_ going to go back? Or have you burned your bridges and are reading to go and chase the Avatar?"

"How...?" he stammered, feeling a wave of embarrassment and dread.

"I _know_ you, Zuko. 'Go hide with Ty Lee'? 'I'll meet you after it's over'?" Her eyes narrowed into slits. "And, I bet you left a note, didn't you?"

And now he was speechless. He stared at her, feeling his hands shaking at his sides, unable to tear his gaze away from hers.

"You're not going alone, Zuko," she added. "I'm coming with you."

 _Now_ he had a voice. "No, Mai. You can't. You have to stay here, stay out of danger. Stay _safe_."

"And you think I don't feel the same way about you? You idiot. I don't trust you enough to take care of yourself."

"But, Mai-" his voice broke, and Mai's eyes softened, just a little. But he knew better than to think that he had won. He knew he had lost... in a way.

She looked away, turning towards the furnace and tossing in another chunk of wood, before looking over her shoulder and giving him a pointed look. He stared at her for a long moment. Was he willing to risk her? Was he willing to let her come with him, to face dangers that he had trouble facing at times?

But his heart, his damned heart, suddenly warmed within his breast. Mai. Mai was beside him, looking at him. Angry at him, but... he could stand that.

Zuko walked over to her side and held out his hand, tossing a ball of flame, then pulled the cord. Slowly, the balloon floated off from the ground, making its way from the warehouse and into the sky. Without thinking, he reached back for her hand. She took it, her fingers cool, and he squeezed.

"Moron," she said.


End file.
